


a place to belong

by words_unravel



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Baby Dragon, Domestic, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 03:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3553961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/words_unravel/pseuds/words_unravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It turns out that Harry really <i>did</i> see an egg before he passed out. An egg that’s now half-shattered, and sitting inside the remaining piece is the tiniest dragon Harry’s ever seen. To be honest, the <i>only</i> dragon he’s ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It seems like this fic has been in the works for absolute _ages_. However, I will say I'm more than a little in love with this universe, so it's been wonderful spending so much time here. 
> 
> A few people to thank, as always. My wonderful beta/britpick crew which includes [cloudlessclimes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudlessclimes/pseuds/cloudlessclimes), [formerlydf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/formerlydf/pseuds/formerlydf), [unfoldinguniverse](http://unfoldinguniverse.tumblr.com/), and [snitchpuff](http://archiveofourown.org/users/snitchpuff). Any remaining mistakes are mine and mine alone. 
> 
> I cannot explain how happy I was when [thestoryischanging](http://thestoryischanging.tumblr.com) picked my fic and that excitement only increased every time I received an email. SO MANY thanks to this wonderful artist. The main piece is included in the work itself with some other sketches included in the end notes. Please, please take a moment to tell her how amazing she is!!! <3 <3

* * *

Harry knows he should be paying attention. This part of the woods is a bit tricky; the canopy is dense, shadows lengthening more quickly and making it harder to see late in the afternoon. It’s definitely _not_ the time for a person’s mind to wander. Unfortunately, his own mind is currently wrapped around the stranger in the village. The one who had trudged into town early this morning, looking worn and dirty from the road. 

He'd just set the first of the sticky buns out on the sill to cool ﹘ if it attracted a few early customers, what was the harm ﹘ when the stranger came around the corner. The buns had done their job and Harry saw him lift his head, sniffing the air. He'd glanced over and even from this distance, Harry could see the weariness in the line of his shoulders. 

Very nice shoulders, actually. Nice... everything, from what he could see. The stranger was not quite as tall as Harry, but unlike Harry's gangly limbs, the stranger was solid, strong. As Harry watched, the young man turned, moving toward the bakery. And that's when Harry saw the sword strapped to his waist, the crested hilt immediately recognizable.

Dragonslayer.

 

So that's what Harry's thinking about when his foot catches a root and he stumbles. The dragonslayer with the tired shoulders. The stranger with the warm, brown eyes that crinkled at the corners when Harry smiled and handed over a still too-hot sticky bun.

By the time Harry reaches the bottom of the ravine, he's lost which way is up or down. His temple smashes against something hard and right before he passes out, Harry swears he sees _eggs_. 

 

It's the cracking sound that wakes him. Well, that and the bit of something that falls on his face. 

Harry sits straight up and immediately regrets the decision. 

 

It turns out that Harry really _did_ see an egg before he passed out. An egg that’s now half-shattered, and sitting inside the remaining piece is the tiniest dragon Harry’s ever seen. To be honest, the _only_ dragon he’s ever seen. 

He’s not entirely sure how long he sits there, the two of them staring at each other. It’s long enough that the sun’s rays are almost completely gone and the temperature’s dropped. He needs to get home, but even though he knows there’s not much he can do, Harry’s unable to make himself stand up and leave. 

The baby dragon yawns, pink tongue curling up at the end, and it’s then that Harry suddenly remembers the news from a nearby village. A dragon had been terrorizing their sheep fields; a dragonslayer had been called in and Harry _knows_ it’s the one from earlier. 

The tiny dragon nudges at the remainder of the egg it’s sitting in, pressing until another piece falls away. There’s a rather delighted look on its face and it does it again to another piece. Looking up at Harry, the baby dragon hiccups a small sound as if to say, _Look at what I did!_

There’s absolutely no way it can survive out here, on its own, Harry knows. There’s nothing he can do either, right? He’s no fucking clue what a baby dragon needs. Harry stands, wiping off his pants, two steps away when the noise begins. 

It may well be the most horrible, sad sound Harry’s ever heard in his _life_.

He sits there and argues with himself for a minute and then sighs, turning back around. 

His heart nearly breaks at the sight that greets him. The dragon, his scales shimmering bronze in the fading light, is pushing his head against the remaining two eggs and is ﹘ the only thing Harry can describe it as ﹘ crying. He’s _crying_ and Harry’s only human. 

He goes to his knees beside the bronze and can’t help thinking that it’s no surprise that mother dragons are so damn protective ﹘ their babies are _tiny_. Holding his breath, Harry tentatively runs a hand over its head and down its neck. That seems to do the trick and a moment later the baby is pressing in his hand, rumbling enough that it sounds almost like purring. and Harry grins. 

He murmurs, "Not so bad, little man, is it?" and the baby dragon blinks up at him. 

He's got dark blue eyes, sharp as they focus on Harry's face. It’s only a moment, then he's pressing against Harry's hand and doing a weird trilling sound. With a sigh, Harry knows he's in trouble. 

Tucking the remaining two eggs carefully into his bag, Harry stands again. The bronze shifts from foot to foot, obviously torn. Harry starts walking and looks back to find the baby dragon still stood there, watching him. 

"Well, are you coming or not?" Harry says and then feels a bit stupid. A second later though, the bronze heads toward him. It waddles, unused to his own feet, and Harry’s hit by a fit of giggles at the sight. It’s entirely too adorable. 

 

About half way home, it’s obvious the bronze is tiring. After the third time he stumbles, Harry scoops him up. The scales are soft under his hands, a bit malleable, and it hits home how little he really does know about dragons. With another sigh, Harry puts him up on his shoulders and it takes half a second for the bronze to curl around his neck, snuffling into Harry's curls. 

It's fully dark by the time he gets back to his house. Setting the eggs down, he busies himself with starting a fire. The bronze watches him with curious eyes, leaning into the heat once Harry’s got it going. He continues to watch as Harry moves around the space, making himself some dinner and trying to figure out exactly what to feed his new house guest. 

He settles on some water-soaked bread, making a mental note to pick up some milk in the morning. It’s plain fare, but the dragon gobbles it up quickly before making his way back toward the fireplace and the remaining two eggs. He curls around them, falling asleep moments later. 

In his head, Harry’s already calling him Louis. 

 

Sunday is normally a day in which Harry takes the time to lie in for a while. This day, however, he’s woken by a loud crash that has him shooting straight up in bed. He’s stumbled halfway across the room before remembering there’s the very real possibility there could be a baby dragon underfoot. 

When he glances over toward the fire, he can see the remaining bits of the last two eggs. Which means﹘

Something hits the side of his ankle and Harry squawks, falling over. Half a second later, Louis is crawling up his chest and tucking his head under Harry's chin and then burying his snout in the curls. It makes Harry laugh and run his hand down Louis's neck. That earns him that strange trilling sound again. 

From across the room, there’s an answering sound. When he glances over, Harry can’t help but gasp.

 

The second dragon is _beautiful_. 

Harry thinks the scales are supposed to be black, but instead of shiny bronze scales, this one's are almost iridescent. The baby moves a little and he actually _shimmers_. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen anything like it. Wide, hazel eyes blink slowly at him a couple of times and he starts to amble towards Harry and Louis. Only he pauses after a few steps, yawning so widely that it makes him stumble. Harry can’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on its face. 

Another short round of chitters carries across the room and Louis responds back with a similar noise. It tickles against Harry’s throat. He sits up, moving Louis to the floor, which earns him a sharp yip before the bronze scrambles across the floor. He moves past the black dragon, pausing to nip at his tail, before continuing towards the chittering that's started up again, even faster than before. 

Harry just crawls across the floor, stopping next to the second dragon. He reaches out and gets a snap at his fingers. 

"Heyyyy.” 

He tries again, keeping away from his head and setting his fingers right at the spot where the spindly wings meet his body. That earns him the same cooing trill sound that Louis does. The noises behind the counter don't stop and now he can hear things being knocked over. 

With a sigh, he says, "Guess I should check on the last one of you, huh?" 

The dragon ignores him and Harry realizes he's fallen asleep sitting up. 

 

When Harry crawls around the corner, he finds Louis covered in flour. 

"I left you alone for two seconds, Louis," Harry grumbles. Somehow he doesn't think this is going to be the last time. "This is your other sibling, huh?" 

The last dragon is pale enough to be almost white, but there's a tinge of gold to his scales that just makes the blue of his eyes even more brilliant. Once the last dragon catches sight of Harry, he squawks loudly and nearly tramples Louis in his rush to meet Harry. He's trilling and clicking all over the place, obviously excited. It reminds Harry of the way Lux, the barber’s baby girl, would toddle towards him, babbling gibberish in her baby talk. 

It hits him all of sudden, as the blond dragon keeps chatting away to Harry, that that's exactly what it is. 

Louis starts doing the same thing and it just gets more excited, more loud. Harry glances over towards the other dragon only to find he's moved into a sunbeam and is fast asleep again. A sharp yip makes his head turn back and he can see Louis and the blond dragon play wrestling. It's cute. 

It's cute until they roll right into the pile of flour that's spilled out of its tin from earlier. A little white cloud puffs up and then they roll into a couple of more tins that Harry keeps on the lowest shelf. 

Going to have to move everything up a couple feet, Harry thinks. And just like that, he knows he's keeping them. 

 

He ends up naming the black, iridescent one Zayn as it sounded pretty and sleek. The last one to hatch, the pale white and gold baby, is Niall. Harry'd thought that sounded a bit like sunshine, and bold like the baby dragon's eyes. 

The next couple of weeks are interesting, to say the least. Harry's got _no_ idea how to take care of baby dragons, so he goes with babies in general. And babies need milk. Thankfully Paul, the local dairyman, only raises an eyebrow when Harry asks for him to save a skein. He picks it up after the bakery closes, heading home as quickly as possible. 

The first few days are a mess. 

The trio are up at the strangest hours, tearing around the house and keeping Harry awake. He sets in to the bakery generally before dawn rises, after only an hour or so of sleep once the dragons exhaust themselves. He generally rushes home at some point mid-morning on break. It's a toss-up to see whether Louis's shredded something or what Niall's accidentally gotten himself tangled up in. The third day, he'd come home on break to find Niall entangled in a skein of yarn that Harry'd even forgotten he owned. The cries from all three had been audible as he'd come up the front path. Harry hopes he never has to hear it again, to be honest. Niall had exhausted himself from struggling and Louis and Zayn were both besides themselves trying to get it off and inadvertently making it worse. 

Once he'd cut Niall out of the string though, the other two had curled up and cooed at him. Their little trills and chirps were harmonic, in a way. They'd been fast asleep by the time Harry set back to the village. 

By the third week, they're settling into a routine. Harry's become a bit used to his odd sleeping pattern now. He's managed to teach them to do their peeing and pooping in a box of dirt he's set in a corner farthest from the kitchen area. For the most part they pick it up fairly quickly, although Harry is certain Louis makes a mess outside the box every so often as a show of annoyance that Harry's not there. 

Still, they're doing fairly well. 

Harry's sent a letter off to his sister, who, in a strange coincidence, is actually doing studies on dragons in the capital city. It's a far distance away and he's not even certain that it will reach her. He does his best though, feeding them scraps of his own meals along with their bowls of milk. 

The lot of them are incredibly tiny and Harry's mind often wanders to the Dragonslayer he'd seen in the village that day. 

It doesn't have to wander far. The man's set up in town, working with the local blacksmith, Paddy O'Brien. He's something of a draw for the local ladies, pounding away at tools and weapons alike, shirtless and sweaty from the coals. Harry's caught himself a time or two, staring at the shift of muscles in his back. It sends a familiar swoop through his stomach. He ignores it.

It's not as though Harry is a stranger to lust. Or love, for that matter. He'd had a fling with Caroline, the prettiest woman in town before she'd headed off to the capitol to seek her future, and also Michael, a local boy a couple years younger than him, but his family had moved away last summer and Michael with them. It seems everyone Harry loves leaves, so he does his best to ignore how he feels when he walks past the smithy and Liam's pounding away on a sword or shield.

He can't help but smile, though, because Liam has the best smile ﹘ lighting up his face, wonderful crinkles at the corner of his eyes ﹘ and it lifts Harry's spirits to see it directed at him. Until he remembers exactly what he's hiding at home and the truth of Liam's real job. That always has the smile dropping from his face and him scurrying away as quickly as possible. 

 

Harry's tired. 

Louis spent half the night tearing around the house without provocation, careening into Niall more than once and causing him to grumble in irritation. Harry, exhausted and frustrated, had given in at one point and shouted at him. It worked long enough for Harry to almost be asleep again before Louis knocked into the small table beside his bed.

It must have been the final straw as a soft purring trill echoed across the room. Zayn, Harry knew ﹘ and it's so strange that Harry can tell their 'voices' apart in the dark now ﹘ and a moment later, he could hear the shuffling as they curled together and fell asleep. 

When he'd woken this morning, blearily after such a terrible night's rest, and swung his legs out of bed, there'd been a soft _crunch_ under his feet. It took him a moment to figure out exactly what it was. An opaque bronze shell. A molt. Harry glanced over to find the trio curled together like he knew they would be. Louis, tucked in between Niall and Zayn, curled along the length of Zayn's body with his nose stuck under a wing. Niall on the other side of him, laying the opposite way, snoring with his head atop Louis's rump. It had been obscenely cute for such a terror. 

So yes, Harry's tired. He's already botched one set of muffins and he knows Mary's about to send him home. It's why he's caught off guard when someone at the window clears their throat. 

It's Liam. 

"Oh," Harry says, then wants to slap himself in the face. He adds hastily, "Hello there. Can I help you?"

Liam ducks his head, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. It looks as though he's done the best to clean his soot-stained hands. Harry swallows hard. The swoop in his belly is definitely back. 

"The, um, the ones you gave me that first day I arrived?" It takes Harry a moment to remember; he might be staring at Liam's mouth. 

"Sticky buns!" He grins, happy to remember. Also, to force himself to look at Liam's eyes. His grin drops a second later. "We're out of those though. They go pretty fast in the mornings."

Liam looks disappointed so Harry blurts out, "I've just finished some berry muffins though, fresh out of the oven. If you'd like?" Liam tilts his head, considering, and Harry adds, "They're good, I promise!" 

"Well, if you promise﹘" Liam presses his lips together, like he's trying not to smile at Harry's enthusiasm. His eyes are practically twinkling and Harry is in _such_ trouble. 

Nodding like an idiot, he turns and pulls the largest one in the batch, handing it over a moment later. Harry hopes he remembered to put sugar in this batch, not salt like the last ones. Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, Harry waits for Liam's reaction. 

The moan of appreciation that comes out of Liam's mouth is obscene, Harry thinks. 

"These are amazing ﹘ It's Harry, isn't it?" he asks. "I think that's what Paddy said." Pulling a piece of muffin off and bringing it to his mouth, he adds, "These are _really_ good," like he can't help himself. 

Harry can feel himself blush, but he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. When Liam reaches into his coin purse to pay, he waves it away. 

"Since you're new in town," he explains when Liam protests, "and we didn't have the sticky buns."

It still looks like Liam wants to protest but down the street, Harry can hear the shout of Liam's name from the blacksmith. Liam obviously hears it too, turning to look that way. To Harry, "I, um, have to get back, but thank you." He lifts up the tiny bit that's left. "They really _are_ amazing."

Harry just beams again and does a small curtsy with the corners of his apron, earning a giggle from Liam. It's adorable and Harry _really_ needs to stop flirting. He can't afford to let Liam too close, not right now with the three tiny animals that are probably currently destroying his home. 

Liam steps back, is half-turned away when he pauses. He looks back at Harry, biting at his bottom lip a moment before he asks, voice hesitant, "I thought you might not like me." He pauses, "Your face always seems to fall when I, ah, look at you."

There's a drop in Harry's stomach at that. He's not exactly sure how to respond, so instead he asks a question that's been on his mind since the first day. 

"When you came into town that first day, You had a sword on you." he starts, unsure how to put it. He’s even more concerned as Liam's face goes wary. "Everyone knows the crest upon the hilt."

Liam stays silent and curious, Harry can’t help adding, "Aren't you supposed to be killing dragons then? Instead of smithing? It seems a waste of your skills."

Liam looks a bit sad at that. "Creating something useful for others is never a waste, I think. Rather be doing something that helps people anyway," he mumbles, looking down at his feet. 

"Still," Harry can't help pushing.

"It was an accident really," Liam interrupts, and Harry snaps his mouth closed. Liam does that thing again, where he runs a hand over the back of his neck. Harry's beginning to think it's a nervous gesture. "A few years back a dragon was terrorizing the village where I grew up. Even after we started leaving a cow or a sheep out for it, just﹘" he sighs. "It wouldn't leave us alone. My best friend nearly lost his dad and I decided that enough was enough. So I went after it." 

Harry eyes widen. Even he knows it's a fool's errand to go after a dragon when you've had no training. 

It must show on his face because Liam laughs. It doesn't sound very amused. "Yeah," he says, "no one really expected me to come back either." He straightens up; a muscle in his jaw twitches. "But I did. I killed it so it wouldn't hurt anybody else." 

"What happened after that?" 

"Word got back to the capitol," Liam tells him, "and they sent for me." He laughs again, this time a little bit more happy, though not much. "Turns out I'm a quick study with weapons? And I was strong and sturdy from working in the fields at home, so," Liam shrugs. "They trained me up and sent me out to do my calling. God's Work, they said, to kill the beasts." 

Harry studies the look on Liam's face at those last words. He doesn't look very satisfied. In fact, "You look a bit sad," Harry says quietly.

It looks as though Liam is going to say something, but he closes his mouth, then tells Harry, "I'm just tired, really." He gives Harry a small smile. "Just needed a break, I think. "

Harry nods. "And sticky buns."

Liam's smile widens, cheeks rising until those crinkles are back at the corners of his eyes. Harry is in _so_ much trouble. 

"And sticky buns," Liam repeats.

There's another holler from down the way, and Liam looks over anxiously. He take a couple steps in that direction, nodding to Harry before he turns completely.

"I'll save you one!' Harry can't help it, hollering after Liam's retreating back. The grin Liam throws over his shoulder at him makes Harry's heart speed up. 

"This is the stupidest thing you've ever done," he mutters to himself, watching Liam's retreating figure. He thinks about what's waiting at home for him. " _Second_ stupidest thing." 

 

It becomes a thing.

Liam stops by every morning and Harry saves him a sticky bun. After the first time, Liam always insists on paying him, despite all of Harry's protestations. During his break, Liam ends up in the kitchens, sat at a stool while Harry putters back and forth. They talk about anything and everything ﹘ Harry tells Liam how he'd always been a bit restless, leaving home and returning; Liam talks of growing up on the farm, poor but happy and healthy. He glows when he talks of his parents and two older sisters, Harry notes, and wonders if his own face lights up that way when he mentions his mum and Gemma. 

They talk about books ﹘ Harry loves to read, Liam not so much. He confesses to Harry that he has trouble with letters, and the length of books makes it more frustrating than anything else. But he _loves_ music, Harry learns. And it's something they both have in common. It's one of Liam's favorite pastimes while they're sat in the kitchen, humming a tune and seeing if Harry can guess what it is. 

Mary, the bakery owner, is content to watch them while she does her own work. More often than not, Harry's glanced up to see her looking between the two of them with such soft fondness. It always catches him off guard, thinking that perhaps he's wearing his heart on his sleeve so clearly. 

But for all the talking they do, for how close they become so quickly, Harry's still kept the baby dragons a secret. It's the one thing he's afraid might tear their friendship apart and although he's becoming more certain every day that Liam wouldn't harm them, he's still too wary to take the chance. 

One afternoon, however, he does ask, "Why exactly did you choose here to rest then?" 

It’s been on his mind more often than not, that this is a strange place to take a break. The town isn’t quite large enough to get lost in, and gossip makes its round quick. If Liam is looking to hide, there are bigger towns not far away. 

Liam sighs, slumping a bit on his stool. "You don't have to answer," Harry hurries to reassure him. 

"No, no," Liam shake his head. "It's not that I don't want to answer, not really. It's more that I'm not sure what you'll think of me."

That piques Harry's interest. 

"I think my opinion of you is well clear," he teases. "You work too hard, you don't read enough, and you've an excellent memory for music. All aces in my book." 

It earns him a blush and a soft smile. The smile falls away after a moment, and he says quietly, "Maybe I don't work hard enough." Harry snorts. 

"I've not seen anyone in all my years that works as hard as you do, Liam Payne." 

"I was good at my job, you know," Liam offers quietly. It makes Harry look over. There's a far away look in Liam's eyes that makes Harry frown. It's the first time they've directly talked about what Liam does.

"Of course you are," Harry says. He knows Liam well enough now to know that Liam is always good at what he puts his mind to. 

"Was," Liam stresses quietly. "I _was_ good at my job."

That makes Harry turn around, dough forgotten. "Liam?"

He's looking down at his feet and even from across the room, Harry can feel the tension that's set into Liam's shoulders. He says his name again, suddenly unsure.

"I refused the last job they sent me," Liam finally says. "Sent it back."

He still won't look up, so Harry moves toward him, wiping off his hands. He squats down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He can feel the twitch of muscles under his palm. 

"Why did you do that, Li?" Harry asks softly. 

"I didn't know," he says instead, finally looking up. He's distraught, Harry can tell, although it's quiet and restrained, like Liam's held onto it forever. "I didn't know," he repeats, adding, "but they did."

"Liam?"

"They sent me after the last dragon because it was taking livestock from a relative of The King,'" Liam offers. He digs his teeth into his bottom lip hard enough that Harry winces. His own fingers twitch with the need to tug it free, but he stays his hand, waiting for Liam to continue. It's not an unusual reason for the capitol to call for bounty on a dragon. 

"I thought it was a bit unusual," Liam tells him. "It’s not the first time I was sent out for that reason? It's just that usually it's because it's starting to affect the town itself, like the one at my village," he clarifies. "Causing harm to the villagers and such. Still, I went. Did my job."

"What they didn't tell me, of course," Liam murmurs after a moment, "is the reason that it was taking livestock." At Harry's questioning look, he says, "It wasn't for itself, you know."

It hits Harry like a hammer then, exactly what Liam's going to say next. He holds his breath. 

"She'd just given birth," Liam tells him, looking back down at his hands. They're twisting in his lap, knuckles nearly white. "They knew that when they sent me out. I didn't," he says again. "And then they sent me my next assignment."

"Liam﹘" Harry's voice catches. 

"I couldn't kill babies," Liam tells him. He looks up again, searching Harry's face, willing Harry to believe him, it feels like. "I _can't_ do that, Harry. They're innocent, they've done nothing wrong."

"Of course you can't," Harry finally manages to get out. His heart feels like it's going to pound out of his chest. Liam looks even more conflicted now, to Harry's confusion. 

"But what if they grow up?" he asks. "What if they grow up and hurt someone? Then it _is_ my fault, isn't it? Because I didn't do what I was told to to begin with."

And just like that, Harry's heart settles. Of course Liam's going to blame himself if something happens. Of course, he is. 

"You are the silliest muffin in all this land," Harry murmurs. "It's not going to happen," he reassure Liam. If it's anyone's fault, he thinks, it will be mine. Harry's always been an optimist, but he knows enough that even he can't stop a beast's true nature. Looking at Liam's face, however, Harry decides that he'll do his best. 

It would be the best time to tell Liam his secret, but Harry just can't bring himself to do so. It's best, he decides, not to add that worry to Liam's already full plate. At least not yet. 

"C'mon, c'mon," he urges, tugging Liam up from his stool. "It's time for you to go back to work. Paddy'll have my head if I keep you late again." Liam just looks a bit confused, worry written all over his face. 

"Liam." Harry sets his hands on Liam's shoulders, looking him square in the eye. "You're a good man, okay? If anything, this whole story you've told me only makes me know it more than I already did. You're not to blame, not now, and not even if something happens in the future." 

"You're a _good_ man," he repeats, pressing his fingers in harder, willing Liam to believe him. He's not quite sure if Liam believes him, but the tension seems to ease from his body. Harry can't help himself then, pulling Liam into a tight hug. It takes a moment, Liam going stiff momentarily before melting into Harry and hugging him back. 

"You're a good friend," he says into Harry's hair. Then, "I'm sure Paddy would forgive you if you sent one of your apple fritters back with me. Two, probably, for best luck."

Harry laughs, breaking the hug and stepping back. "Get me in his good graces, will it?"

 

Liam nods solemnly. "Mmm-hmm."

"Seems too easy a way to someone's heart," Harry teases. Liam blinks at him, something shifting in his face that makes Harry swallow hard. They're still close, Harry's hand curled around Liam's elbow. 

"Easier than you'd think," Liam murmurs, glancing down and breaking their gaze. The tops of his cheeks flush. 

Harry's not quite sure what to say, words stuck in his throat. Finally, he manages, "Then I have half the town's heart, I swear," with a mangled laugh. 

That makes Liam look back up and smile. "Fairly certain you do, Harry."

With that, he breaks Harry's hold, stepping away and over to the tray of remaining apple fritters. Scooping two up, he shuffles backwards toward the door and takes a huge bite out of one of them. 

Raising a dubious eyebrow, Harry says, "For _Paddy_ , right." Liam's halfway out the door, giving Harry that ridiculous attempt at a wink he's got. "I'm onto you, Liam Payne!" Harry shouts after him. 

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him!" echoes back through the door, Liam gone an instant later. 

With a sigh, Harry slumps onto the recently vacated stool and presses his face into his hands. 

"Seems a nice young man," Mary says, appearing out of nowhere. Harry nearly falls off the stool, startled. Then he processes Mary's words. 

"Yes," he responds, sighing again. "A nice young man indeed."

"Seems a solid type," she adds. "Seen him giving treats to Teasdale's young one." Harry nods, not surprised at the news. "And with those arms, bet he's incredible in bed."

Harry does fall off the stool this time, with a startled squawk and flailing arms. 

 

Despite how much Harry loves the bakery, it’s nice to have a day off. Sundays are his favorite day of the week just for that reason. He lives far enough on the outskirts of town that it's rare for him to have visitors. 

Which is good, as both Louis and Niall have taken to the outdoors with vigor. 

It worried Harry at first, since the two of them would be gone for hours on end. In a rather clever turn of events, if Harry does say so himself, he's taught them to come at the sound of a whistle, using bits of dried meat as a reward. Niall gobbled them up immediately ﹘ he puts away two or three times what the others do but doesn't seem to grow and Harry would be worried if he obviously wasn't alert and full of energy. Louis, on the other hand, had seemed wary at first, side-eyeing Harry like he knew exactly what he was trying to do. 

In the end though, they'd both picked it up. So now when Harry lets out a low _whooo-eeet!_ , both will shuffle through the undergrowth and head straight for him. 

Zayn, in direct opposition to the other two, seems more than content to sleep the time away in a sunbeam like the damn cat that hangs around the bakery. He'll play around with Louis occasionally, always winning to Harry's surprise. He'd call it rough-housing, but there's a softness, a gentleness to the way he'll roll Louis over and then lay on top of him until Louis gives in. 

Harry thinks his favorite thing might be the way the both of them are overly protective of Niall. Zayn will do this weird growl-hiss when Louis's being too rough with him and more often than not, Louis will parade around in front of Zayn while Niall copies his every move. It's a bit hilarious to watch, Louis acting like he's lording Niall over his brother. 

So different, each of them, but so very much a group. 

 

It's mid-morning on a Sunday, Harry out behind his little home. Niall and Louis have disappeared as they're wont to do and Harry's focused on making sure there are no weeds in his garden when someone clears their throat. 

Harry's very thankful he's already on the ground as he startles, half-shouting in surprise. When he looks up, it's to find Liam trying hard not to smile. 

"Liam?!?" 

"Sorry to surprise you, Harry," he says, reaching down and offering Harry a hand. He takes it, shaking his head as he stumbles to his feet. 

"No apologies needed," Harry responds, still to shocked to say much more. He glances back at the forest but doesn't hear anything, nor see any movement in the underbrush. Turning his attention back to Liam, he asks, "Is everything okay? You've never, um, asked about visiting me outside the bakery."

"Not that I mind," he rushes to add when Liam's face falls. 

It's been a week or two since Liam's confession and Liam had been a bit hesitant around Harry for a few days after, until Harry'd run over to the blacksmith with an apple fritter for Paddy and two sticky buns for Liam. The blush on Liam's face was truly amazing when he'd seen Harry's offering. He'd blamed it on the stacks, but Paddy's uproarious laughter laid waste to that immediately. Liam looked as though he'd like to stick his head in the irons fire and Harry was more endeared than ever. 

"I don't suppose we could go inside? I﹘ I've something I want to tell you." He asks hesitantly, wiping a hand over his forehead. "And you live further out than I was expecting. Could use a drink, to be honest." 

"Sure, sure," he mumbles, turning toward the house when he suddenly remembers that Zayn's probably sprawled out asleep somewhere. This time of day throws a large beam of sunlight across the middle of Harry's bed, a favorite Sunday spot for Zayn, and directly visible from, well, everywhere, once you've stepped inside. 

"No!" he exclaims, startling them both. Liam spins back around, startled, just as Harry hears something trudging through the underbrush. "Not yet," he adds, shifting to try and block Liam's view of where the noise is coming from. 

It doesn't work, of course. Liam looks curiously over Harry's shoulder, he brows drawing together. "You don't have wild pigs, do you?"

"Oh no," Harry says. He's becoming a bit desperate. "Probably just some bunnies."

Liam's face lights up and Harry just barely keeps himself from smacking himself in the face. Of course Liam likes bunnies, he thinks. He probably _was_ one in a past life. 

Before he can stop him, Liam's pushed past Harry and is headed toward the underbrush. "I saw a spotted one just the other day﹘" he says over his shoulder, "Was the cutest﹘oh."

Niall's tumbled out of the underbrush, pale scales gleaming in the sunlight. 

" _Oh_ ," Liam says again, tone reverent. 

Harry's heart is beating in overtime as he watches Liam stare down, enthralled, at tiny, golden Niall. The baby dragon is stock still as well, looking up at Liam in almost the same fascination. If Harry wasn't scared to death, he'd find it amusing. 

"Harry," Liam says quietly. "You've a baby dragon."

"I can explain﹘" Harry starts to say, just as Liam slowly reaches down with a hand. 

It never connects. 

Louis launches himself out of the bush in a copper blur of movement, shrieking in a high-pitched, ferocious fashion. He hits Liam solidly in the chest and the two go down to the ground. 

It's a bit of chaos then, Harry and Liam both yelling, Niall yowling in confusion, while Louis's growling, angry chirps are interrupted only as he tries to tear at Liam's shoulder. He's only got cloth for the most part, but his teeth eventually find flesh and Liam yelps. 

" _LOUIS!_ ," Harry shouts. 

Louis, startled by the harshness of Harry's tone, tumbles off Liam's chest and ends up rolling over a couple of times on the ground. He staggers upright, shaking his head as if to clear it. He looks up at Liam, who still sat on the ground in shock, hisses once and waddles over to check on Niall. 

Which leaves Harry and Liam staring at each other, both breathing hard. There's a tiny trickle of blood seeping through Liam's shirt at the shoulder. Neither of them say a word, the sound of Niall and Louis's chirping conversation carrying over the air. 

The whole tableau is broken when Niall hops in Liam's lap. There's the sound of harsh scolding from Louis, who's obviously not happy with the situation. Niall ignores him, however, climbing up Liam's chest. Liam sucks in a quick breath at that, lifting a hand as though to stop him, only to have Niall rub his hand against instead. 

There's a quiet trill from Niall's throat, a whine that Harry's more than familiar with. He lets out a startled huff of laughter as Niall does it again, bumping his head a second time on Liam's hand. 

Liam glances at Harry then, a question on his face. "Harry?"

He sits down then, next to Liam, crossing his legs and sighs. Niall ignores him but Louis does not, clambering into his lap and letting Harry know exactly how he feels about this turn of events. "Hush, Lou," Harry murmurs, rubbing his thumb behind Louis's ear.

"Harry?" Liam asks again. He's still got a hand up, unsure. Niall's growing a little frustrated, nips softly at the meaty part of Liam's hand. It's not enough to hurt though, Harry knows. 

"Niall would like you to pet him, please," Harry offers. In his own lap, Louis's finally settled down, leaning into Harry's thumb. 

"Niall?" 

Liam looks dumbfounded, but does what Harry says. Tentatively, he slides his fingertips over the top of Niall's head and down the length of his neck. Niall coos, obviously happy, and Louis makes a disgruntled noise. He's always been a little possessive of Niall's attention. Harry presses his thumb down harder, rubbing back and forth and Louis melts into his touch. 

"He's quite affectionate," Harry adds after a moment. "They all are."

It takes a moment for that to sink in, Liam obviously intent on petting Niall, learning that he likes a good scritch under his chin. Niall's scales shift slightly more golden in pleasure. 

"Wait," Liam says abruptly, whipping his head around to stare at Harry. " _All_ of them? Exactly how many _are_ there, Harry?"

With a sigh, Harry shuffles to his feet. Louis grumbles at the movement, whining a little when Harry lifts him but settling into a coo when he's placed around Harry's neck. 

Reaching a hand down, he says, "I'll show you."

Liam studies his face for a moment before taking the proffered hand. Niall realizes they're headed back to the house and leads the way with a steady stream of excited chatter and half-flaps of his nearly translucent wings. He shoots between Harry's legs once he's opened the door, causing him to stumble. Liam reaches out a hand to steady him and Harry can tell the exact moment he catches sight of Zayn - Liam sucks in a quick breath, his fingers tightening almost painfully around Harry's elbow. 

Looking across the room, he's not surprised to find Zayn stretched along the length of the sunbeam that's shining across Harry's bed. Niall's made his way up ﹘ Harry's duvets will never be the same again, he's decided ﹘ and is nosing at Zayn's belly, chittering away. 

When Harry looks back at Liam, he's still staring at the two baby dragons. Something's settled on his face though, an unease of sorts that makes Harry swallow whatever he'd meant to say. 

"Oh Harry," Liam finally says, shoulders dropping, "this isn't good. Not good at all."

 

Despite Liam's dire words, the remainder of the afternoon is lovely. Zayn takes the presence of another person in Harry's home as well as he's taken everything else. Which is to say, he stretches, makes a yawn noise so adorable Liam actually blushes, then rolls back over into the sunbeam and falls asleep again. 

Niall seems more than content to join him, nosing under Zayn's snout long enough that there's a flap of a black, iridescent wing and then Niall's tucked under it, snoring away a moment later. 

Louis, on the other hand, has no such intentions. 

After they've stepped inside Harry's home and he's made them both some tea, Louis no longer seems content to stay curled around Harry's shoulders. He's obviously greatly curious about Liam, especially as Harry's come to learn that Louis is extremely territorial. He hisses every time Liam moves or speaks, until finally, Harry's had enough. 

"Knock it off, Lou," he huffs, setting the small dragon on the floor. He immediately races around the cabinet where Harry's stood to peer around the corner at Liam. 

"You'd best tuck your laces in," Harry warns Liam. It earns him a frown. 

"Why?" 

"Louis has a fondness for﹘"

Harry doesn't even finish his sentence before Louis darts over and snags one of Liam's boot laces. He doesn't go far, more tucks and rolls over a couple of times, flipping over Liam's other foot and pulling the lace completely untied. Liam yells in surprise, startling Louis in turn. He launches himself backwards with a weirdly loud hiccup-snarl that Harry's not heard before and ends up flopping backwards over his own tail. It's the funniest thing Harry's ever seen and he barks out a shout of laughter, slapping a hand over his mouth a second later. 

From the bed, Zayn lifts his head at the ruckus. Obviously determining that it's Louis being Louis, and he's in no danger, Zayn promptly falls back asleep. Niall doesn't even move. 

Louis looks like he's just suffered an indignity, the scales along his spine bristling a little. They're still not hard, Harry notes vaguely, but not as soft as those first few weeks either. He sighs, about to admonish Louis when he sees Liam bend over. Curious, he leans forward, peering over the edge of the cabinet. 

Liam's taking the lace off his boot. 

Harry tilts his head, curious. On the floor, Louis mimics it almost exactly. He's watching Liam with wariness, but if nothing else, Harry's learned that while Louis is loud and more brash than his brothers, he's distinctly cautious at times. 

Liam finally tugs the lace free with a triumphant, "Aha!" and holds it up for Harry to see, the tip dangling a few feet off the floor. Louis can't help himself then, the temptation too great. He stretches out his neck, snapping at it. Liam flicks it away however, and Harry can practically see Louis's eyes narrow. 

It’s the struggle, Harry can tell, between the need to go after what he wants and letting Liam know how badly he wants it. 

The need wins out in the end however, and Louis launches himself up to try and snag it again. It's not a game that Harry even thought of to entertain Louis, but it works amazingly well. The two of them are a blur, Louis crouching and scurrying as Liam teases with a twitch of his hand. 

Ten minutes later and Louis's forgotten that he was ever wary of Liam. He is, on the other hand, growing increasingly frustrated that Liam keeps managing to snatch the lace away from him every time. Harry knows he's plotting something; Liam is completely oblivious though, grinning wide and laughing. 

 

"You never told me your news," Harry says abruptly. 

They're laying on an open space on the floor. Louis's back in Harry's lap, curled nose to tail and sound asleep, worn out from his play session with Liam. 

At some point during the evening, Zayn and Niall had woken up and joined the three of them. Liam is currently sprawled on his stomach, chin on his hand while he trails a hand along the line of Zayn's neck, finishing by tracing the thin bone along the top of the dragon's wing. Zayn is practically cooing at that, bumping his snout against Liam's chin every so often, obviously in love. Harry is kind of well aware of the feeling, to be honest. 

Truthfully, they all seem to be a bit smitten with Liam. Niall's taken residence in the small of his back as he pets Zayn, curled into tight ball similar to Louis. 

And for all they seem to be taken with Liam, he's just as equally taken back. He's asked Harry nothing but question after question for hours. There's a far away look in this eye occasionally and Harry knows, he _knows_ that Liam's thinking of their mother. 

Which brings him back to﹘

"What did you come here to tell me, Liam?" He smiles, adding, "before I distracted you with adorable baby dragons?"

Something must shift in Liam's demeanor then. Although all Harry can see is the way Liam sighs, Zayn makes a confused trill and shifts closer. Niall also lifts his head, blinking blearily. 

"Well," Harry says, voice quiet. "If I wasn't already a little worried, the way these two are reacting definitely isn't helping in the slightest." And when Liam doesn't say anything, "Liam?"

Liam sighs, scratching under Zayn's jaw. He loves it as much as Niall did earlier, cooing happily. "It's not bad, Harry. At least I don't think so," he amends a breath later. It's still not putting Harry any more at ease. 

He's got his mouth open to demand and answer when Liam says softly, "I sent a letter in to the capitol." He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, and adds, "I told them that I wouldn't be returning to the guild."

Liam opens his eyes, turning his head to look at Harry. "I told them I quit."

Harry's speechless. Normally the only way a dragonslayer gets out of the business is usually because they're dead. He's never heard of anyone leaving on purpose before. He starts to say something and then just closes his mouth, dumbfounded. 

"I just got to thinking," Liam continues, "after our conversation that day. About how I'd only ever gone after that first one because it was harming people. People I knew, families I'd grown up with, you know?" He looks over at Harry, like he's wanting affirmation. "And I killed other dragons for the same reasons, later on. But that last one﹘" 

He stops, running his hands over his face. Zayn bumps the back of his hands gently and makes that strange, concerned noise again. Liam drops his hands, reaching out to rub behind Zayn's ears. 

"It wasn't right," he finally says. "It wasn't right and I don't think I can do it anymore."

 

To Harry's delight and to his chagrin, Liam becomes a fixture in Harry's home. Before, Harry usually only saw Liam during the early morning on his way to the blacksmith and during their lunch discussions. Now, it's hardly any time at all before Liam's on his front step, sheepishly glancing up through his lashes. It's terrible for Harry's resolution to keep his distance?

He's not the only one enamoured either; the dragons trip over themselves to greet Liam when he enters. 

Zayn always hears him first, head popping up from wherever he's laying and then making his way across the floor to stand in front of the door. A few seconds later, there's the familiar tap on the door. By the time Harry gets to the door, the other two have done a mad scramble, nearly tripping Harry at least twice. It's a chatter of baby dragon sounds, one over the top of the other. 

And while Liam always asks if it's okay to come inside, there never fails to be a pleased blush on his cheeks as the three twine themselves around his ankles and beg to be petted. 

And he always does. 

Zayn first, of course. Because while Harry knows Liam loves the other two, Louis is always a lot to handle. And Niall, by extension of his need to copy Louis's every move, can be a bit much to deal with as well. So he'll lift Zayn like he's nothing, and after hammering metal all day, Harry guesses it _would_ be nothing to pick Zayn up. He doesn't watch the play of muscles in Liam's arms and shoulders under his shirt, he doesn't. 

Even after weeks of watching this scenario play out, it's incredibly endearing how much Liam seems to enjoy the way Zayn will rub the top of his head under Liam's chin and let out the strange purr-like hum that means he's happy. Louis never waits for long though, he's instantly in Liam's lap the moment he's sat down, nipping at the tip of Zayn's wings and scolding him. It's never malicious, as evidenced when Zayn just does the same head-chin bump to Louis, earning a pleased coo from the bronze. Zayn always huffs at that, amused, before gracefully jumping to the floor to entertain Niall while Louis has his turn. 

Harry can't lie, he loves watching Liam and Louis. It's always as though Louis pushes and pushes to see how much Liam can take, if he'll do what he wants ﹘ be it a tummy rub or the spot just under his wing or the spot right at the start of his tail. Regardless, it usually ends with Louis stretched up Liam's chest, snout in the curls under Liam's ear and tip of his tail curled around the curve of Liam's knee while Liam runs his hands down the length of Louis's body. 

And then he's done. 

It makes Harry laugh every time, how Louis seems to realize that he's completely content and it's like he's lost some sort of game between him and Liam. He'll snort, usually in Liam's ear because Louis is a little shit to be honest, then stretch out his wings and shove off Liam. Of all three, Louis is the quickest. His wings are thicker and stronger than either Niall's or Zayn's and Harry knows it's probably not long before he'll try to fly. He does his best not to think about it. 

Then there's only Niall left. 

Niall, who's most obvious with the way he feels and is so often the one to make Harry and Liam smile. The other two dragons are overtly protective of Niall and Harry feels much the same. Liam is obviously of like mind. He holds Niall the most, with gentle hands, and when the others are getting too rough, he tends to swoop in. Niall's always content to be held as well, so more often than not when Liam and Harry are settled, talking or eating, Niall's in Liam's lap. 

All in all, it's a routine that Harry's become accustomed to. Like, cooking for himself and Liam. Like the tea they take after, sitting there talking about nothing and everything. They've started reading together, Harry wanting to share his favorites and have Liam appreciate them. They never get too far, Liam unabashedly asking asking question after question when he’s curious or unsure of something. Harry loves it. 

It's as if they're courting. 

Almost.

Liam hasn't made a single overture though, not given Harry a sign that he feels anything more than simple friendship, and Harry is afraid to change anything. So they continue with this routine and he likes it, he does. 

But it makes his heart ache a little sometimes, when he looks up to find Liam's attention caught by one of the babies ﹘ either talking softly to Zayn or taunting Louis with his lace or just watching Niall curled up in his lap ﹘ and knows he might not have any more than this. 

He'll be content with that, he thinks. He has to be.

 

"What's wrong?" 

He breaks his gaze away from the trio rolling around in the dirt ﹘ and it looks like baths for everyone tonight ﹘ and glances over to find Liam looking at him with concern.

"Beg your pardon?" he asks.

Liam shrugs a shoulder. "You just looked worried." He goes back to digging holes into the ground, looking up every so often, watching Harry. 

Sighing, Harry shoots another look at the baby dragons. With a frown, he finally says, "They just don't seem to be growing very fast." It's true. Even though Louis's molted once, neither of the other two have and it's beginning to worry Harry. "Don't you think it odd?" he asks Liam. 

Liam settles back on his heels, thinking over Harry's question. Finally, he just shrugs again. "No, I don't think so. Not really." At Harry's inquisitive hum, he adds, "They've most been subsisting on a vegetarian diet, right? You don't eat a lot of meat yourself and, well." He clears his throat, "They're usually receiving a lot more fresh meat in the wild, you know."

Harry feels a bit silly that he hadn't thought of that. Every so often, Liam manages to surprise him with an insight and then Harry feels terrible that he's so surprised. He should know better by now; Liam can be quite amazing with his knowledge of the natural world. 

He's lost in his head a little, feeling like he’s let his babies down, when he almost misses Liam's next words, they're spoken so softly. "Their mum was only the size of a small plow horse anyway and they all seem fine-boned like she was﹘" Liam's voice goes rough, like it's hard to speak. 

"Didn't take much," he adds. Harry bites his lip, his own breath catching. Liam shakes his head as though to clear it, then goes back to digging holes, spade shoved forcefully in the ground. 

Harry wants to hug him so badly it hurts. Instead, he goes back to weeding. 

It's a little while later, the sun nearly straight up in the sky when Harry speaks again. The trio are flopped over each other in a the shade of the underbrush and he can't help looking over at them as he asks, voice tentative, "What did she look like? Their mum?"

He can hear Liam sigh behind him and he nearly takes it back, nearly says _never mind, I don't need to know_ but Liam answers him before he can do that. 

"She was green,"he says quietly. "Quite a brilliant green." Then, in a considering voice, "Not unlike your eyes actually," which makes Harry whip his head around. 

Liam's not looking at him though, back to planting seeds in the holes he'd previously dug. Harry watches his hands as he fills them, patting the soil gently each time. They don't talk much after that, just continue working side by side while Louis, Zayn, and Niall sleep away the afternoon. 

 

Louis learns to fly right as spring slides into the early days of summer. 

It's mostly by accident; he's always been the best jumper of the three, with the strongest legs, able to leap right up onto the bed whilst both Niall and Zayn get most of the way there and then use their clawed feet to struggle the rest of the way. His wings are thicker than the others two, almost as if nature was trying to make up for the fact that he remains the smallest of three. 

So yes, it's mostly an accident, Harry figures. 

He's shooed them out into the yard, the back door propped open so he can keep an eye out. Liam's yet to arrive, but Harry knows he'll be by soon. He'd snagged some fish at the local market today and is busy roasting it up with some potatoes when there's a commotion out in the back. 

Wiping his hands off, Harry goes to investigate. 

What he finds is that Louis's made his way up one of the trees and is sat on a branch, chattering away at Niall and Zayn. Niall's excited, running back and forth under Louis, clearly upset. Most likely, Harry reasons as he makes his way over, because Louis's gone and done something he can't yet copy. 

Zayn, on the other hand, is sat on his haunches, watching Louis with a careful eye. Every so often, he'll chirrup a question at Louis. Louis always answers him back, a frank _I've got this_ if Harry's ever heard one. 

When Louis catches sight of Harry, he chatters loudly, running back and forth along the limb as Harry gets closer. 

"You'll fall off," Harry tells him. He's trying not to worry, but he's seen more than one cat go up a tree and not be able to come down before. Also, the limb that Louis's on is too far out of Harry's reach and he's a bit wary of climbing trees. He's standing there, arms akimbo with Niall running around his feet and Zayn blinking slowly at both of them. 

"I hope you know how to get down, Lou," he says, green eyes meeting blue. "And if you make me burn dinner for Liam, I'll be terribly cross." Louis does a strange little trill at the sound of Liam's name, like a heartfelt sigh. Harry understands completely. 

"C'mon now." Harry waves at Louis to come down. Louis just stares back at him. Frowning, Harry says sternly, "Louis, you need to get down. It's almost time for Liam﹘"

"Harry?" 

A couple things happen in quick succession then: Harry whips around so fast that he trips over Niall, who'd taken the fast track toward Liam by running straight through Harry's legs. He's upright long enough to see that Zayn already ensconced on Liam's shoulder ﹘ seriously, for a dragon, Zayn is entirely too quiet, Harry hadn't even heard him move ﹘ before he's flat on his back, Liam shouting his name. 

While this is happening, Louis becomes so excited to see Liam that he nearly falls off the tree limb. Instead, at the last second he shoves off of it, like he can make the jump from his perch to Liam. It's too far, Harry knows, with Liam still halfway across the yard. Still, Louis gives it his best. 

The baby dragon seems to realize about a split second after take off that there's no way he's going to reach Liam either. He squawks, flapping his wings wildly. About a meter off the ground, it catches, and as Liam and Harry both watch in astonishment, Louis hovers, wings stretched out wide and beating fast. 

It's a bit of chaos again after that. 

Liam clapping loudly and praising Louis, his eyes happy and his smile broader than Harry's ever seen it. Niall's chattering away, running back and forth between Liam's feet and Harry, still lying on the ground, then popping up under Louis. Even Zayn's head has come up, and he's watching Louis with interest. 

"Do you see this?" Liam exclaims. 

"It's a bit hard to miss, Liam," Harry replies drily. Liam just rolls his eyes and goes back to grinning at Louis. 

As they watch, Harry dragging himself up off the ground and dusting off his backside, Louis starts to get some control. Instead of just hovering, he's directing himself toward Liam. When he's close enough, Liam reaches out for him and Louis flops into his arms. Zayn reaches down, bumping his snout against Louis's, making a questioning hum. Louis answers back enthusiastically, bumping Zayn gently back before rubbing the top of his head under Liam's chin. 

Niall's feeling decidedly left out by now, something that Harry is more than a little sympathetic with as he watches the other three. Walking over he scoops him up, rubbing his fingers in the little groove under Niall's wing. It's his favorite spot and he melts into Harry's arms, cooing happily. 

Standing there, both of their arms full, Harry thinks they look like a family. A strange one, of course, but definitely a family. 

Something must show on his face because Liam tilts his head to the side. "Everything all right?" he asks. 

"Everything's dandy," Harry sighs. "I've now got a tiny dragon who can barely stay out of trouble as it is, that can now _fly_ and dinner isn't ready﹘" He yelps then, remembering the food on the fire and hurries past Liam. 

Inside the house, he sets Niall down. Liam and the other two follow shortly, the two of them running off toward Niall when he sets them down as well. 

"Is it okay?" Liam asks, leaning against the counter. He peers toward where Harry's pulling the pan off the fire. 

"A few of the potatoes are a little crispy," Harry tells him, "but mostly salvageable." He sighs, shoulders drooping. 

Liam moves up beside him, fingertips brushing his elbow. There's concern evident in his voice when he says, "Harry?"

Across the room, Harry can hear the babies. Soft little trills and chirps, a language only they can understand. He's fairly certain that Louis's regaling them with his greatness. The thought makes him huff out a laugh. 

It turns into a moan a moment later and he doesn't even think, just curls into Liam and shoving his face into his neck. It's a testament to how far Liam's come when he doesn't even question it, just wraps Harry up in a hug, running a hand up and down his back in a soothing motion. 

"Louis knows how to fly now," Harry mumbles. "He knows how to fly and pretty soon the others will too and then what happens, Li? They get caught and everyone will want to kill them dead. Or﹘or they'll fly away forever and I'll not see them again." 

He sniffles and god, he's gonna _cry_. This might be the worst day ever. "I'm not sure which is worse, to be honest," he adds, pressing his nose harder into Liam's neck, hands clinging to Liam's shirt. 

Harry's not sure how long they stand there, but he can feel himself almost drowsing off between the warmth that Liam's exuding and the steady pass of his hands. It's incredibly soothing, up until the soft _thump_ on the counter behind them. A second later there's the soft nudge of a snout against his hand, followed by a quiet trill. Harry lifts his head. 

Louis's sat on the counter, eyes wide and watching. He chirps when Harry meets his gaze. That's when Harry feels the other two shuffling around their feet, a chorus of curious chirps and hums. He shifts, glancing down and is met by concerned hazel and blue eyes. He can feel Liam huff out a soft laugh. 

"I'm fairly certain you won't have to worry about them leaving you, Harry." He tugs on an errant curl with a smile, waiting until Harry smiles back. "At least not for a long while yet."

"What about the rest of it, though?" he asks, voice quiet. He reaches out, rubbing a thumb behind Louis's ears and getting a happy sigh in return. "If they're seen﹘"

"We'll figure something out," Liam interrupts. He stands up straight, shoulders back. "We'll figure it out," he repeats firmly, "but for now I'm hungry and I'm sure you are﹘" Stepping around Harry, he reaches for two plates and it hits Harry hard in that moment, how entrenched in their lives Liam has become, how much he's come to rely on Liam. 

How much he's definitely fallen in love with Liam. 

Unaware of the tangle of Harry's thoughts, Liam continues preparing their plates. As Harry watches, he dumps a second helping of roasted vegetables on one plate ﹘ Harry's, of course ﹘ and says over his shoulder, "I keep forgetting to bring you some more goat milk. Paul's herd is overproducing apparently." He picks both plates up and moves over to the table. "It's very tasty! And I think these three would really enjoy it, too."

He stops, turning to look at Harry, who hasn't moved at all. 

"Harry?"

"I'm very happy you're here, Liam," Harry says, apropos of nothing. Liam blinks a couple of times and then ducks his chin. Harry can see the blush rising on his face and despite everything else that's worrying him right now, the warm swoop in his stomach when Liam raises his head up and smiles back at him overrides it all. 

"I'm very happy to be here," he tells Harry with a solemn face. He nods his head once and then shuffles around the table, waving Harry over. "Let's eat, yeah? We'll worry about all the rest of it later."

So Harry sits down to dinner with Liam, scolding Louis when he manages to flit up to the table with a single flap of his wings. Liam's no help, nearly falling out of his chair with laughter. Louis preens, of course, happy to make Liam laugh, even as Harry frowns at the two of them. Never a dull moment, really. It's kind of amazing. 

 

Later, when Liam's walking away, back to town as the sun is just starting to set, Harry has to work very, very hard not to call him back. Not to beg him to stay a little longer. 

 

Louis gets stronger every passing day, gains control with frightening speed. Harry can't help but worry, calling at him when he thinks he's too high or when he goes too far away. 

"Stop it," Liam's told him on more than one occasion. "Just let him learn first."

But it's hard for Harry, it is. Louis molted a second time just a few days after he'd started flying, and just this morning Harry'd woken up to find two more shed skins on the floor. 

Squinting at Zayn, who's sat watching Louis do silly loops in the air, he asks Liam, "Does Zayn look longer to you? I think he's definitely longer now. Poor Niall though. He molted but I don't think he's getting bigger. I mean, he's still larger than Louis, not by much but﹘"

"You're rambling, Haz," Liam says absently. He's distracted and when Harry glances over, it's to find him sketching something out in a small leather bound journal. Interest piqued, Harry wanders over. 

"What's this?" he asks, catching a glimpse of what looks like it could be a sketch of a bird. Or a dragon. 

Liam digs his teeth into his bottom lip and Harry ignores the always present urge to reach over and tug it loose, instead poking him in the arm. "I didn't know you could draw."

"I can't," Liam frowns, eyebrows drooping. "But Paddy's got all these scrap pieces and I fashioned a daisy out of one the other day and Ms. Teasdale asked if I could make so it'd go on a chain. I did," he adds, eyebrows lifting up in surprise now, "and she gave me a few pence for it!" 

Glancing back down at his journal, he says, "I thought that I might try to make some charms, like. For Baby Lux. And Paul's wife is expecting, you know? Thought she might like a pretty thing." Liam shuts the book suddenly. "S'stupid, probably," he mutters. 

"It's not," Harry tells him. "I think it's wonderful, in fact. Also, you should just call her Lou, or Louise. You've been here long enough."

Liam looks a little horrified and Harry laughs. It fades a second later when Liam's eyes go wide at something behind him. 

He turns to look, "Wha﹘oh!"

Zayn's up in the air, wings flapping effortlessly. There's none of the hesitation or awkwardness of Louis's first flight; he's just smooth and quiet, rising up to meet Louis. 

Louis's practically shrieking with excitement, swooping down and around his brother. Niall, on the other hand, is chattering loudly, running around in circles underneath the two. Every so often, he leaps up, wings flapping hard, but it never catches and he thumps back down to the ground. 

"They're gorgeous," Liam murmurs beside him. And they are, Louis's bronze scales gleaming in the sunlight. It's a direct contrast to the dark shimmer of Zayn, flashes of blue and deep purple as the sun hits his scales. 

Harry can feel the worry coming back, sliding under his skin as he continues to watch Louis and Zayn dip and turn through the air. Almost as if Liam knows what's happening, fingers slide around his wrist, tugging him down to where Liam's sat on the ground. 

"Just watch," he murmurs. So Harry does, soaking in the warmth of the sun and the line of Liam's side next to his. 

 

For all that Harry is worried, with two of the three flying now, Zayn doesn't spend a lot of time in the air. He'll humor Louis for a while, then eventually come back down to the ground when Niall quits trying and begins to sulk instead. For a creature who’s normally so graceful, he always lands a bit awkwardly. He once face-planted hard enough that even Louis had swooped down to check on him. 

And it's not as if he doesn't enjoy himself when he's up there. Harry can tell he loves it, loves the back and forth chase between him and Louis. He never follows, though, when Louis gets above the tree line. Almost as if he's afraid being up so high, Harry thinks. 

A dragon afraid of heights. Well, it wouldn't exactly be the strangest thing Harry's ever had happen in his life. Still, though, worry eats at him. 

 

Harry's home from the bakery early one day. It's a dreary one, overcast and raining lightly off and on all afternoon. He shoos Louis, Niall, and Zayn out the door during one dry moment. Everyone's gone a little stir crazy with the weather, grumpy and snappish, and he thinks some fresh air will help. 

It actually takes a moment for the sound to sink in, when he hears it echo in through the open door. 

He's not sure he's ever moved so fast in his life when it does. Harry's out of the house, searching the yard immediately. When he spots the trio, Harry's certain his heart actually stops. 

The rain has started to mist again when Harry goes to his knees beside Niall. The small, gold dragon isn't moving, one of his back legs bent at an unnatural angle, and Harry can't figure out what to do, hands hovering, afraid to touch him. Zayn is making this terrible, terrible noise in the back of his throat, a desperate whine, and rubbing his head. 

Trying to wake him, Harry thinks. It hits him then that he's seen hide nor hair of Louis. 

Looking around frantically, he sees nothing. "Louis," he calls. Then frantically, " _Louis_."

He barely hears it, the rain starting to come down a bit harder. Glancing in that direction, he can see Louis peeking out behind a tree. He's low to the ground, almost flat, with his wings pressed to the dirt. He trills, another sound that Harry's not heard from any of them before now. It sounds scared. 

"Come here," Harry demands, waving at him. He just needs them to be closer, needs them together. Louis doesn't move, just flattens himself out further, if possible. "Louis," Harry says, exasperated and scared. "Come _here_."

Louis trills sadly again and refuses to move. 

Harry opens his mouth to shout, even though he knows it won't be helpful, when Zayn chirps. It's a short, excited sound that immediately makes him glance down. 

Niall's blinking, slow and sluggish, and Harry doesn't think he's ever been so very relieved in his life. Zayn's trilling away, rubbing his cheek along Niall's when he lifts up his head. His gaze is clear now and before Harry can stop him, Niall goes to press himself to his feet. 

It's only then that he realizes that he's hurt, the move jostling what Harry's certain is a broken leg. Niall cries out in pain ﹘ another sound Harry hopes to never hear again ﹘ and suddenly Louis is there, next to Zayn and cooing softly at Niall as if to distract him. It doesn't work very well, Niall whining in pain. 

The rain is beginning to come down harder and Harry needs to get Niall inside. He's no idea how to move him though, without hurting him or causing more damage. Picking him up will shift him too much, he knows. Suddenly it hits him and he's scrambling to his feet, running back towards the house. Niall calls out after him, another scared cry, and Harry stumbles at the sound. Shoving the guilt away, he keeps going. 

He's back a moment later and Louis nips at his hand, a punishment of sorts. Zayn ignores all of them, just laying close to Niall and doing that low hum sound. Harry has to move him a moment later, trying to find the best angle to push his largest baking pan under Niall. He finds it, sliding it awkwardly under the small dragon. 

Niall cries out when Harry jostles his bad leg and Harry keeps muttering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," under his breath even as Louis chitters at him angrily. 

"I've got to do it," Harry scolds back, shoving his hair out of his face, and gets a glare in return. "It'll hurt way less this way," he adds and moves to stand up. Gritting his teeth, he lifts the baking tray with Niall on it. The rain is really starting to come down now and Harry has to walk excruciatingly slow in order now to slip on the now muddy ground. 

Niall is whining now, almost near constantly, and the sound is shattering Harry's heart. On the ground, Louis and Zayn are darting ahead. They both beat Harry and Niall into the house, making wary circles as Harry heads over to the hearth. It's warmest there and he sets the tray down. Niall's breathing hard, belly going up and down in a rapid pattern that concerns Harry. 

The panic really starts to set in then. 

He needs Liam, Harry decides. Certainly Liam will know what to do. 

 

Harry can barely see when he finally makes it to the blacksmith's. He's winded, sucking in huge gulps of air by the time Liam catches sight of him. 

"What are you doing, Harry? You're soaked!" Liam tugs him under the awning. Behind him, Harry can see Paddy look up. "Harry?"

Looking back at Liam, Harry opens his mouth to tell him. Only all that comes out is an anguished, " _Niall._ "

Liam's face pales and the hand around Harry's elbow tightening almost painfully. "What's happened? Harry, tell me," he urges when Harry doesn't say any more. 

"I need you to come home," Harry finally manages. He doesn't think about how he hasn't said _my home_ , doesn't think about it when Liam doesn't hesitate either, just turns and tells Paddy, "I've an emergency," and Paddy just nods. 

"Shit day for 'smithing anyway," he tells Liam. Then, "Hope everything turns out."

Liam mumbles a quick thanks and slides his hand down Harry's arm, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist. "C'mon," he urges, and pulls Harry back out into the rain. 

 

Harry's struggling by the time they reach his home, but Liam's barely winded. He stumbles through the front door, gaze going directly to the hearth. Zayn and Louis are curled around Niall, both lifting their head at the commotion. Neither of them move, although Louis calls out at the sight of Liam. He puts his head back down though, over Niall's shoulder. 

Beside him, Harry can hear Liam's breath catch. He's by Niall's side an instant later. 

"Oh, Nialler," Liam murmurs, looking down at him. He runs a thumb between Niall's eyes and down to the tip of his snout. It earns Liam a weak coo and Harry watches Liam swallow hard. He sits back a moment later, straightening his shoulders. He glances over at Harry and asks, "What happened?"

"I﹘" Harry shakes his head. "I'm not sure?" Liam purses his lips, looking back to Niall, and Harry feels guilt shoot through him. 

"It's not like I can keep my eye on them all the time," he snaps. 

"Of course you can't, Harry," he says, frowning in puzzlement over his shoulder, and Harry feels even worse. "Do you have any ideas, is all I meant?"

 

"Sorry," he mumbles, making his way over to slump to the floor beside Liam. Zayn and Louis barely move, still wrapped as closely as possible to their brother. Harry thinks back to what he saw when he came into the yard. It hits him then. 

"I think﹘ I think he was trying to fly," Harry states. "You know he's been awfully out of sorts with not be able to be up there with Louis and Zayn. Can't stand it when he can't copy Louis, yeah?" 

Harry runs a hand over the length of Louis's tail. It's a testament to how upset Louis must be, he barely even twitches at that. Normally, he'd be scolding Harry for it. 

"I'll bet he was up in the tree, trying it like Louis did that first time," Harry says quietly. "It would explain why Louis wouldn’t come to me at first." Liam glances over at that, curious. Harry tells him about it, adding, "I think he felt guilty, that he was going to get in trouble."

Liam sighs fondly, reaching over with a soft tap on Louis's snout. "Silly dragon," he murmurs. Louis yawns, ignoring him. 

"What are we going to do?" Harry asks after a moment. 

"I think it's just a break," is the response he gets. As Harry watches, Liam reaches down to gently slide his fingers under Niall's injured leg. It earns him a soft cry, Liam saying softly, "I know, I know, Nialler. Just gotta see how bad it is."

Harry knows he's being as quick and as gentle as possible, but it still makes his hands clench as Niall lets out another painful whine. "Liam﹘"

"I _know_ , Harry," Liam says. A muscle in his jaw twitches. "I don't like it either, but I have to." 

Sitting back on his heels, Harry worries at his bottom lip and tries to keep quiet as Liam works. After a few minutes, Liam nods, turning his head to look at Harry. 

"I need you to get me something about this long﹘" Liam holds his hands out to show him, '"﹘fairly rigid, yeah? And some strips of cloth to tie it with." 

Harry nods scrambling to his feet even as Liam turns back to Niall. He's just found one of his old scarves, worn thin and easily torn when there's a sharp cry from near the hearth. Snapping his head around, he finds Liam leaning over, talking softly to Niall and running a hand down the length of his neck. Zayn and Louis are both up again, rubbing their heads against Niall's. Even from across the room, Harry can hear their distressing hums. 

"Liam﹘?"

"I set his leg, Haz, that's all," Liam replies. He glances over his shoulder at Harry, face apologetic, and it's then that Harry realizes that Liam sent him away on purpose. 

"I could have helped," he frowns. Liam sends him a small smile. 

"You are." He nods at the scarf in Harry's hands. "Got to have something to keep it immobile. Now get a move on," he adds before turning his attention back to Niall. 

Harry gets what he needs, tearing the scarf into strips and snapping one of his smaller wooden spoon handles in half. Making his way back toward the heart, he can see they've all settled a bit. Niall's exhausted, eyelids drooping slowly. He does seem in a little less pain, Harry notes, handing over the requested items to Liam. 

Quickly and efficiently, Liam wraps the leg up. Niall does lift his head at one point, a tiny little pained whine escaping. Zayn answers it back and Niall's head falls back to the floor. Louis, curious as ever, has made his way around to Liam, nosing at his hands as he ties off the splint and making curious little huffs and chirps. 

"I'm making it better," Liam tells him, pulling a hand away to run it down the length of Louis's neck and back, "I promise." Louis bumps his nose against Liam's hand again, like he understands, then makes his way back around to curl up against Niall's back. He drapes his head over Niall's shoulder and it earns him a quiet coo. Louis answers back with the same noise. 

Liam sits back, dropping his hands onto his knees and sighs. "That's about all I can for now," he tells Harry. "It's just about giving it time to heal." Running a hand through his hair, Liam watches the three. Niall's passed out, the other two curled as close as possible without hurting him. It makes Harry's chest ache. 

"It felt like a pretty clean break," he rambles on, still not looking at Harry. "I mean, from what I remember at the guild, it seemed to be a fairly simple break. But then again, I was always a bit terrible at the anatomy part of lessons. Couldn't ever remember the right terms, you know?"

"Liam."

"I had to take those exams over a half a dozen times," Liam continues, like he's not heard Harry. It's then that Harry realizes that Liam's about to panic, delayed all this time in order to take care of Niall. Harry can't help smiling at that. "You know how rubbish I am at spelling things﹘"

" _Liam_." He finally glances over, eyes wide. "You did great," Harry tells him softly. "Thank you."

Liam stares at him, eyes searching his face. When he speaks, it's not what Harry's expecting. 

"I was so scared, Haz," he finally says. "When you came up to the shop. You're face﹘" he shakes his head, looking back down at his hands. "The look on your face terrified me. And then you said it was Niall and﹘" He hesitates and Harry shuffles closer, reaching out to tug one of Liam's hands away from where it's clenched in the material of his trousers. They're both still soaked, he realizes suddenly. 

"I don't know when I got so attached, Harry," Liam says quietly, curling his fingers tightly around Harry's. "I don't know when all of you became so important and it just﹘ It just hit _so_ hard at that moment."

"You're important to us too," Harry finally says, watching Liam's profile. 

You're important to me, Harry thinks, and falls a little more in love when Liam glances over, a smile spreading slowly across his face. 

 

The splint irritates Niall to no end. 

Harry's certain that it's more that the young dragon is pretty much cut-off from doing anything. Although after the first few days, he manages to get upright and move around a bit. It takes a lot out of him though, hobbling around on three legs. 

About four days after the accident, Harry comes home to find that Niall's chewed the splint off his leg. There are pieces of it scattered throughout the room, obviously Louis getting a hold of it once Niall's torn it off. Harry sighs and re-ties it, scolding Niall when he nips at his hands. It happens again the next day. 

Liam's the one to suggest a cone of some sort. He'd seen it on pets in the capitol, he explained. Some of the families with pets that had been hurt somehow. Liam fashions one out of an old, worn piece of leather, another of Harry's old scarves and several light-weight rods molded from more of Paddy's scrap heap. 

Niall _hates_ it. He spends a solid portion of the evening trying to shake it off, growling and hissing. It's only when he's not careful, jarring his hurt leg and crying out, that he finally acquiesces to the indignity. He lets his displeasure be known by ignoring both Liam and Harry for the rest of the night. 

The other two seem to take everything in stride. They're quieter, hovering around Niall and sleeping curled around each other more often than not. Zayn seems to realize that the cone is for Niall's own good, scolding him with soft chirps when Niall tries to tug it off. 

Louis, on the other hand, seems endlessly delighted with the cone. He spent most of that same evening, running around Niall in circles, chattering away with excitement. Stopping every so often to stick his own snout into it until Niall snaps at him, annoyed. Harry notes, however, that despite Louis's seeming light-hearted teasing that he's always the first by Niall's side when he makes a discomfited or pained sound. He's the one always bringing Niall bits of his own meal, setting them on the floor and rolling them closer until Niall can snatch them up. 

 

If Liam was around before, after Niall's accident it's as though he becomes a permanent fixture in Harry's home. 

It's raining again and Harry can't help but stare out the window and sigh. The sun's long since set, the air sheathed in darkness and the rain coming down hard. It's also becoming very evident that Liam's most likely not going to make it home in this weather. Even if he'd have no issues with traveling in the dark, the rain is coming down so hard, he'd barely be able to see. 

Turning, he's about to say as much when the sight in front of him stops him cold. 

Liam's laid out on his stomach by the hearth, a spot chosen not long after they'd finished eating. He's got a hand outstretched, fingers curled around the base of Niall's neck. He must have fallen asleep while petting him, Harry surmises, and can't help the fond smile that spreads across his face. 

The other two are asleep as well. Louis in his usual spot along Niall's back, head over his shoulder and touching Liam's hand. Zayn has taken a different spot than normal, snug up against Liam's outstretched arm, his own neck hanging awkwardly over Liam's forearm. 

He'll let them sleep a while longer, Harry decides, and sets about to find some extra blankets. 

 

"C'mon, Li," Harry urges an hour later, shaking his shoulder gently. "You'll have a terrible cramp in your neck if you sleep like that all night."

Liam just mumbles, shoving his face into the floor and frowning. It's incredibly cute. Harry shakes his shoulder again though, insistent. "I mean it, Liam. Come to bed."

Harry blushes, realizing what he's just said. Liam doesn't seem to notice, although he does finally wake, eyelashes fluttering open.

"Haz?" His voice is wonderfully rough. Harry nips that thought in the bud before it can get out of control. "Is something wrong?"

"No, no," Harry shakes his head, pulling himself upright as Liam sits up. There's a low groan as Liam presses his hands overhead, stretching. "Nothing wrong," Harry says. "Just thought you might like to sleep on something a bit more comfortable."

Liam blinks at that, confused. "I didn't realize it was so late, Harry. You should have woken me sooner! I'll get out of your hair﹘"

"Stay!" Harry blurts out, then rushes to add, "It's still raining like mad, I mean. You should just spend the night here."

"All right," Liam says after a moment. Harry sags in relief, then feels embarrassed. 

Turning away, he rambles, "I thought you might like the bed. It's very comfortable, Gemma sent me the best pillows﹘"

"I'm not putting you out of your own bed, Harry," Liam huffs, sounding amused. And he is, when Harry glances back toward him. "The floor is fine, I promise."

The thing is, Harry's already got a set of blankets piled up on a chair nearby, waiting for Liam. So he's no idea what his brain is thinking when he says, "Or you could just share with me?"

"It's big enough for the both of us," he adds, when Liam's eyes go a little wider. "You don't have to, of course. I just know that the floor is terrible hard." He laughs, a weird, nervous sound even to his own ears, and gestures towards where Liam's sat. "Not that you had any trouble obviously﹘"

"The floor's fine," Liam interrupts, voice soft. "Really, Harry."

He snaps his mouth shut, nodding. 

The next few minutes are quiet, Liam shuffling around making a nest with all of Harry's blankets. Harry wakes Niall, curling his hands around his belly and taking him over to the box to do his business. The other two barely move, only shifting to curl up together at the end of Liam's makeshift bed. Once Niall's done, Harry carries him over to the other two and sets him down carefully. It earns him a playful nip of thanks, Niall's cone bumping against his arm, and a soft trill from the other two. 

When Harry looks up, Liam's watching them with a soft look on his face. 

"Good night, Li," Harry whispers and gets one in return. Surprisingly enough, he falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

 

It's quiet when Harry wakes the next morning, the approaching dawn coating the room in a pale pink hue. It's one of Harry's favorite times of the day, when everything is still. Like the world's holding its breath. It's broken by the soft snuffling of Niall's snore. After that, a number of other sounds come in. There's the rustle of Niall's cone as he shifts in his sleep and Zayn's concerned murmur. Even in his sleep, Harry knows Zayn's always conscious of Niall. 

Rolling over as quietly as possible, Harry peers over the side of his bed. The trio, initially curled up at the end of Liam's blanket, is down to two - Niall and Zayn. Frowning, Harry finally locates Louis. 

And nearly laughs out loud. 

Liam's going to have bedhead when he wakes. Sometime during the night, Louis made his way up to the top of Liam's little nest. He's currently curled on top of the pillow Harry had lent Liam, using the top of Liam's head as his own pillow. 

As Harry watches, bright blue eyes pop open, looking directly at Harry. Louis huffs, nuzzling his face deeper into Liam's curls. Harry could swear he grins as Liam shifts. With a shake of his head, Harry moves to get out of bed, trying to stay as quiet as possible. He does his morning routine, putting out another cup for tea. 

There's a few pancakes on the griddle when Liam finally wakes. There's a startled yelp from him as he discovers Louis on his head and then an indignant squawk as Louis's resting space is disturbed. He's still scolding Liam by the time Liam reaches Harry, jumping up onto the counter to continue until he spots Harry. 

At that point, his tone changes and he chitters away, flapping his wings every so often to emphasize a point. 

"What do you reckon he's telling you?" Liam asks. There's pillow lines on his face and his eyes are still sleep swollen. He yawns in a fashion that Harry wishes he didn't find so adorable, and looks at Harry expectantly.

"I'm fairly certain he thinks you quite rude," Harry laughs, pushing his other thoughts away. "Moving his bed like that and all."

"He was asleep on my head!" Liam protests. "I'm not a bed!"

"Not quite sure Louis sees it that way. Right, Louis?" He asks the bronze, who's now eyeing the cup of tea Harry's sat in front of Liam. "Don't even think about it," Harry warns him. Liam looks at him, curious.

"Decided he liked tea," Harry tells him, moving his cup further away. Louis gives him disgruntled mumble and promptly nuzzles Liam's shoulder, cooing prettily. Liam looks enamoured, immediately reaching over to run a hand down Louis's neck. 

"Oh god, Liam," Harry laughs, watching the display. "He's just buttering you up, you know." Shaking his head, he turns back to the griddle pan. "You're so easy, I swear."

There's more protests from behind him, Liam swearing up and down he knows exactly what Louis's up to. Still, when Harry sets the last of the pancakes on the counter, Louis's got his nose stuck in Liam's cup. 

"Louis!," Harry shouts. Then, "Liam!"

"It's just tea!" Liam defends. "It can't﹘"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence as Louis pulls his head back quickly, shaking it and sending drops of tea flying. He belches and makes a gagging sound. Two seconds later, he's giving Liam an earful, chattering and chirping at him in what sounds like a disgusted tone. He jumps off the counter, still grumbling as he makes his way over to the small dish of water Harry leaves out for them. 

Liam looks at Harry, confused. "I don't think he likes your tea," Harry says, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Liam just frowns harder. 

"It's just tea, Haz," he protests. 

"Tea the way you like it though."

"What's that mean?" Liam shakes his head and Harry finally does laugh. 

"I put sugar in it," he says. "I know you've a bit of a sweet tooth, even with your tea." He glances over Liam's shoulder, watching as Louis settles into the circle of Niall and Zayn. He can still hear him grumbling, until Zayn reaches up to settle his neck over Louis's. It goes quiet after that. Well, except for one last huff in their direction. 

"Seems Louis has very strong opinions on tea, Li," he laughs. 

"Can't believe I'm being judged on my tea habits," Liam grumbles. Harry shoves the syrup across the table in consolation. 

 

It seems as though it takes both forever and no time at all for Niall's leg to heal. 

Harry will come home from the bakery, let the other two out to spread their wings and then dither between taking Niall out too, or keeping him inside. He's not sure if it's cruel to let him watch the others when he can barely get around himself or if it's worse to keep them apart. 

In the end Niall always makes the decision for him, hobbling along toward the door until Harry scoops him up and sets him outside. 

Liam comes along later, after the blacksmith shop is closed. More often than not, he's got some scraps from the butcher. It's not much, but Harry's certain it's a big reason that Niall heals as fast as he does. More often than not, Harry's seen Zayn roll a few scraps of his own meal in Niall's direction. 

So Harry's not exactly surprised to get home one afternoon and find Niall gnawing at the strips on his splint. They'd removed the cone a few days earlier, content when Niall seemed to no longer want to mess with his splint. Now though, as Harry walks in the door, he's torn one strip off and is working on the other. 

"Niall!" Harry scolds. He's knelt down, fingers reaching for the loose strip when Zayn butts his hand away. Shocked, Harry just stares. Zayn chitters at him and rubs his head against Harry's knee, softer this time, before setting his head on Harry's thigh, blinking up at him with wide, hazel eyes. 

By the time Harry's snapped out of his surprise, Niall's managed to get the other strip off. 

"Wait﹘" Harry protests as Niall stumbles to his feet. His back leg crumples a little, weak from disuse, but soon enough Niall's got it under him. He limps around for a few steps, getting used to it again. On Harry's knee, Zayn huffs happily. He doesn't move, not even when Louis bounds over, chittering excitedly at Niall. Harry runs a hand down Zayn's neck, rubbing his thumb just under the wing like the dragon likes, and gets a soft, contented purr he can feel against his leg. 

Neither of them move, watching as Louis runs circles around Niall and Niall does his best to follow, hobbling awkwardly.

This is how Liam finds them, not much later. He sits down beside them, letting Harry curl into his shoulder again, and doesn't say a word when Harry's breath hitches on a quiet sob. 

 

It seems only right, after the flying debacle, that Niall is the first of the three to breathe fire. 

It's mid-summer by now, the sun setting later and later in the day. Harry's got the back door open, the trio traipsing in and out with regularity. He's working on a new scone recipe, mixing the dough as Liam sprawls out on the floor. He's sketching away, biting his lip every so often. His little trinket idea has become fairly popular; Harry's seen several young ladies in town sporting a new necklace or brooch that he knows is Liam's work. 

He's busy not-thinking about how Liam hasn't made him anything yet when there's a hiccup and a strange _fwoosh_ sound. On the other side of Harry's counter, a puff of smoke rises and dissipates in the air. 

"What the﹘" 

Liam looks up at Harry's exclamation, eyes widening as his gaze drops to the floor. Again there's a hiccup and that strange noise again. Harry's watching Liam as his eyes go even wider and he follows the second flume of smoke up. 

"Um," he says, glancing up at Harry. 

"What?" Harry demands, coming around the counter. He finds Niall sat there, looking bewildered. There are what looks to be scorch marks on Harry's counter. He frowns. 

 

"Harry, I wouldn't﹘" Liam starts to say, but Niall hiccups again right then and Harry's too busy dodging the little flair of flame coming at his feet to really respond. 

Yelping, he jumps back. "Liam!" He looks over to where Liam's now standing up, eyes still wide in shock. "Liam, do something!" Harry says loudly.

Liam shakes his head, waving his hands about. "What the hell am _I_ supposed to do?!"

Niall hiccups again, belching out another flame. He whines, confused, and Harry gives Liam another look. With a loud sigh, Liam comes over and scoops Niall up around the belly. He holds him out carefully, just in case, and makes his way out the door. There's another _fwoosh_ , a yelp from Liam, and a small cry from Niall that has Harry dashing out after them. 

"Are you okay?" he rushes out, moving over to check Liam out. 

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Liam insists. "Just startled me is all." 

They turn to look at Niall, who's currently sat in front of them. His little belly hitches and they both take a step back. Nothing happens though and two seconds later, Niall's off across the yard. He's calling out on his way and Louis and Zayn crash through the brush a second later. They do this weird dance around each other, chitters and trills overriding the next one, until suddenly they've all disappeared back into the underbrush. 

Harry takes a step forward, but Liam stops him with a hand on his arm. 

"What if﹘" he starts.

"They won't go far," Liam interrupts. "It's almost time for lunch." He smiles, adds, "And when you start baking those scones, you know they'll all come running back."

"I'm not entirely sure I can concentrate on scones, Liam," Harry huffs. "Niall just breathed _fire_." He squints at Liam. "Did you know this would happen? Why wouldn't you tell me about the fire thing, Liam?"

Shaking his head, Liam opens his mouth and then closes it a second later. Without answering, he turns and heads back into the house. 

"Liam﹘"

"Their mother wasn't a fire-breather, Harry," Liam tells him, back still turned. "So no, I wasn't really certain any of them would have the ability."

Harry huffs. "But surely the possibility could exist. It _does_ exist﹘" he waves at the open door, "the proof is right there on my counter!"

Liam turns to look at him then, jaw tight. "Why are you so angry at me, Harry?" 

It's a good question, Harry knows, and one for which he's not sure he's got an answer. He throws his hands up instead of answering, and moves back toward the counter where he'd left his baking. 

Liam asks him again, "Why are you taking this out on me?"

"You're the expert," Harry finally says. "You're the expert and I'm just a fucking baker who seems to be in over his head and﹘ and you're the expert!"

"I killed them, if you've forgotten," Liam responds tersely, fed up. "I slaughtered them," he repeats and Harry winces at the sound of Liam's voice on that word. "I've no experience with living ones except to ensure they don't stay that way long!"

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Harry let out a heavy sigh. "I'm just﹘ I'm a little overwhelmed. It's like one thing, right after another. The flying and Niall's leg﹘" He still limps sometimes, Harry's noticed. When he's tired or they've rough-housed too much. "I'm scared that something's going to happen to them. That I'm going to mess them up﹘"

He bites his lip, glancing up at Liam. "I don't know. I guess﹘ I guess I just didn't think it would be so hard?"

"What did you expect?" Liam shakes his head. "They're _dragons_ , Harry, not dogs or cats. No matter the size, that's a fundamental fact that you can't ignore."

"I know that!" Harry says loudly. 

 

"I'm sorry," Liam says tersely back. "It's not like I thought I'd in this position either. I just wanted to get away from it. And now here I am﹘"

Hurt slices through Harry's chest. 

"You could always just go then," he snaps, immediately wishing he could take it back when Liam looks like he's been slapped.

"Is that what you want?" Liam asks after a moment of silence. "For me to leave?"

A million screams of _no_ are echoing inside Harry's head, but all he can manage is a quiet, "Of course that's not what I want." I want you to stay forever is the problem, Harry thinks. One of four, that is. 

Almost as if they know, Louis, Zayn, and Niall tumble through the open door, sliding to a stop in a small heap at Liam's feet. A smile curls at the corners of his mouth and as Harry watches, he squats down, taking a turn to pet each one. 

In a few short steps, Harry's there too. He sits down on the floor, watching Liam carefully. Niall immediately jumps into his lap, reaching up to rub the top of his head under Harry's chin. After a moment, Liam sits down as well. He looks across at Harry, his face solemn. 

Harry scratches behind Niall's ear, unsure of what to say now. He gets a pleased hum for it, and Louis jumps over, demanding the same treatment. Zayn seems content to curl up in Liam's lap, tail wrapped around his wrist. It almost makes Harry laugh; Zayn's staked a claim as well, doesn't want Liam to go. 

"I don't want you to leave," Harry states quietly. "But I would understand if you do."

Liam sighs at that. "Of course I don't want to go," he tells Harry. "I'm in this all the way. You _have_ to know that by now."

Harry bites his lip, his heart beat jumping at that. 

"I do," he replies softly, giving Liam a small smile. He gets one in return that makes his stomach twirl. "But it's nice to hear it sometimes." 

 

Harry barely has the time for a quick hello the next morning, Liam rushing in to pick up his sticky bun and Paddy's fritter then gone an instant later. He also doesn't come by for their regular lunch break and Harry's not worried, he's not. 

It's when Liam misses dinner that Harry begins to worry. 

He's not the only one that seems out of sorts either. Zayn keeps wandering up to the front door, sitting there to stare at it for a while until finally he makes his way over to the chair where Harry'd dumped all the blankets from that one night. They must smell like Liam, Harry figures, watching as Zayn curls up with a giant sigh. 

And Louis. 

Harry's about to kill Louis. The bronze has been a terror all night, annoying Zayn until he'd snapped at him, then chasing Niall around until he'd grown too weary to continue. Then after that, everywhere Harry turned, Louis was underfoot. It's not until Harry literally trips over him, sending himself to the ground with a shout and Louis yelping in pain, that he settles down. He skulks over to the chair where Niall's now curled up with Zayn, standing up on his hind legs to nose at Zayn as if to ask permission. 

He must get it because a moment later he's hopped up there as well, shifting around until he's managed to squeeze in between the two. Niall just yawns, moving until he can rest his neck on Louis's shoulder. 

"Fuck," Harry says succinctly. It's almost loud in the too-quiet of the house. They really are kind of a wreck without Liam around. 

"Fuck," he says again, and hopes that he comes back soon. 

 

It's almost noon when Liam shows up at the door the next afternoon, his face red from the heat of the summer day. Harry nearly weeps with relief. He doesn't though, just ushers Liam in and gets him a drink. 

"Is everything alright?" Harry can't help but ask. "You didn't come by last night﹘"

"I know, I know," Liam interrupts. "I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you I wasn't going to make it. I was just working on something and then by the time Paddy told me he was closing up, I'd missed you and﹘" He breaks off, sighing. "I really _am_ sorry, Haz."

"Nothing to be sorry for," Harry tells him, waving it off and letting his stomach settle. "Barely even noticed you were gone."

It's such a lie that Harry's certain Liam can tell, but before he can say anything there's the tell-tale shuffle of small dragon bodies coming through the door. It's only Niall and Zayn, however, and Harry frowns. He's about to call out when Louis swoops in through the door, tucks his wings in, and lands perfectly on the counter in between the two of them. 

Liam's eyebrows are clear up to his hairline, eyes wide. 

"Show off," Harry mutters, even though he's stupidly impressed as well. Louis's by far the best flyer and he knows it. 

"That was amazing, Louis!" Liam bursts out, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. Louis coos, happy with the attention. Which is what he wanted in the first place. 

"All right, down you go," Harry tells the bronze and lifts him off the counter. The other two are up on their hind legs, trying for Liam's attention. Harry can hear Liam murmur to them, mixed with their own excited chirps and trills. "Are you hungry?" he asks. "I was just about to put something together for lunch."

"Starved, to be honest," Liam tells him, smiling wide as he glances up. "I've been working non-stop, trying to finish this idea up, and haven't had a chance to eat yet. Oh﹘" Liam seems to remember something, reaching into a small bag he's brought with him. After a moment, he finds what he’s searching for. 

"A merchant came through town this morning, had all kinds of strange fruits," Liam tells him. "I thought you might like these, they're called bananas. He said his wife likes to mash them up and bake them with some sugar and flour, like a bread." He shrugs. "I know how you like to experiment, thought you might like to try them out."

Before Harry can say anything, Liam's poking back into his bag. Harry can hear the tinkle of metal and watches as Liam pulls out three strips of leather and a number of what look like small charms. 

"What's this?" 

Liam grins at him. 

"Well," Liam drags out slowly, laying the strips down neatly in front of Harry. Close-up, he can tell they're actually collars - neat little buckles at one end, three or four holes on the other. He looks up at Liam, confused. Very carefully, Liam places three silver charms below the last collar, closest to Harry. 

A sun, a moon, and a star.

Each is attached to a hoop just big enough for the collar to go through and as Harry watches silently, Liam picks each one back up carefully. 

He lays the collar with the sun down with a quiet, "Niall," the moon, "Zayn," and finally the star. 

"Louis," Harry whispers, reaching out to run a fingertip over each one. He looks up at Liam.

"And then there's this," Liam tells him, reaching back into his bag. He pulls out a silver chain, shaking it until it untangles. Hanging from the bottom are three identical charms to the ones on the counter. He motions for Harry to take it. "For you."

Harry lets the cool silver slide over his hand, then does the same as before, runs a fingertip over each of the symbols. They're all hardly bigger than his thumbnail. 

"This must have taken you ages," he murmurs, and Liam laughs. 

"Told you I was busy."

Harry looks up again, studying Liam's face. "I'm sorry," he says. Liam shakes his head, confused. "I'm sorry," Harry repeats, "for the last few days. For being so terrible, taking things out on you when I shouldn't have." He closes his hand around charms, feels the tiny bite of the sun and star's edges. "You've done so much for me, for us, Liam, and I﹘"

Reaching out, Liam wraps his hand around Harry's wrist. "It's fine, Haz," he says. There's another one of those soft smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. " _We're_ fine."

Harry's certain his heart is fit to burst, the warmth of Liam's skin against his, the way he looks at Harry. It's just﹘ 

It takes everything he's got not to just blurt out _I love you_.

He manages, however, just nods at Liam and smiles back. Liam's hand is gone a second later and Harry opens his own again, staring down at the charms in his hand. He frowns. 

"Where's yours?' he asks, looking up. Liam shakes his head, not understanding. "You've got one for Louis and Zayn and Niall set here for me, but where's the one that represents you? It's not really complete until then, to be honest," he tells Liam. 

"I don't﹘ I didn't think﹘" It looks like Liam's blushing. "I don't have a clue what symbol I would use," he finally gets out, "And really, I don't think you﹘"

"A sword," Harry interrupts. Yes, that sounds right. "Definitely a sword."

Something shifts on Liam's face, and he looks away, teeth digging into his bottom lip. "I'm not a dragonslayer anymore, Harry. You know that."

"But the sword is a symbol of so much more than that," Harry insists. Stepping around the counter, he moves into Liam's space. "It's﹘" he's trying to find the right way to say this, "It's a part of who you were, yes, but it's still a symbol of who you are _now_ , Liam."

"I don't see how." Liam shakes his head, brows pulled together. He ducks his chin to his chest, adding, "It's blood and death to me﹘"

"But it's protection, too," Harry tells him. "You're that for us, don't you see? Our own warrior," he dips his head, trying to get Liam to look at him. "Even if it's just against broken legs and singed cabinets," he teases gently. 

That earns him a tiny smile, Liam lifting his head to finally look at Harry. He seems to search it, looking for what, Harry's not certain. He seems to find it, nodding. 

"A sword it is, then," he confirms, voice quiet. 

Harry realizes how close they're standing suddenly, can feel the warmth Liam exudes. Swallowing, Harry shuffles back around the counter, picking up one of the collars and holding it up.

"So," he smiles widely, ignoring the way Liam's eyes narrow a bit. "Who do we try this out on first?"

 

Of the three, Zayn is the easiest to put the collar on. 

It's done in a few seconds, Liam holding him on his lap and talking to him while he slips the leather around his neck, buckling it so that it's snug but not overly tight. He rubs his head under Liam's palm, more concerned with the petting than the collar around his neck. 

Niall's fairly easy as well. Only wiggles a little, shaking his head ferociously a couple times as though trying to dislodge it. After a few minutes however, he ignores it, bounding over to Zayn to nudge the tip of his nose against Zayn's charm. They chitter away while Louis watches, head tilted in curiosity. 

Then it's Louis's turn. 

 

"Louis!" Harry scolds. "Knock it off!"

They're sat on the floor, Louis tucked between Harry's legs. Every time Harry tries to fit the collar around Louis's neck, the bronze twists too, nipping at the dangling charm. Liam is no help, sprawled across the floor laughing at Harry's frustration. Harry gets distracted by the flush of his cheeks, the splay of his hand over his belly as he giggles. 

It's all Louis needs really, Harry's attention diverted. 

Harry can feel the collar snagged out his hands and he yelps, trying to get it back. Louis's gone a second later, racing across the room with the leather strap trailing from his mouth. Fortunately, the charm bounces off, landing not too far away. 

Harry snatches it up with a huff, glaring over where Liam is currently curled into a ball. "It's not funny!" Harry tells him, but Liam only laughs harder. It's too much, Liam's giggles, and after a moment, Harry starts chuckling too. 

"Ugh," he moans, shuffling over to flop down on his back next to Liam. "I don't know what you were thinking," he tells him. "Louis never gonna wanna wear it."

"Nah," Liam tells him, voice still holding laughter. "You just need to make him want to." Harry rolls his head to the side, looking over at Liam. "He hates not being in the middle of things," Liam tells him, "just give him a bit."

Harry watches Liam's gaze shift up, at a spot above his head. A second later, he can feel one of the dragons nosing at his curls. It turns out to be Niall, who lays down there and Harry can feel the soft exhale of his breath as he falls asleep. Zayn's made his way over as well, trilling softly at Liam. Harry watches Liam's eyes soften, the way he reaches out to scratch under Zayn's chin. Zayn's eyes drift lower, his body going pliant until he's tucked under Liam's arm, head on Liam's chest. 

"Didn't realize how much affection they'd have," Liam says, breaking the silence. He's running the tips of his finger along the line of Zayn's snout. It earns him another hum of satisfaction which makes Liam smile. 

Harry rolls onto his side carefully, doing his best not to dislodge Niall. "Liam﹘?"

"They don't teach you those kinds of things though, do they?" It's not a question he's expecting an answer to, Harry knows. "No," he continues, "they just teach you what you need to know to kill them."

"That's not you anymore," Harry says, reaching out to wrap a hand around Liam's wrist. "It's _not_."

"I know, Haz." He looks over at Harry, giving him a small smile. Liam breaks Harry's hold on him, shifting to slide his fingers through Harry's. It feels _so_ nice, Liam's skin warm against Harry's, the roughness of the callouses on Liam's hand. 

"I know," he says again, "it's just hard to forget sometimes." Harry squeezes Liam's fingers at that, and gets a squeeze back in return.

[ ](http://thestoryischanging.tumblr.com)

He's not sure how much time has passed, but they're still laying there when Liam says, "I just thought, you know﹘" He clears his throat and Zayn whines. Liam murmurs softly at that and the dragon settles immediately. To Harry, "I just thought that _if_ something happened, they might hesitate." 

Harry frowns, not following. 

"With the collars," he clarifies. "Collars mean that they belong to someone, right? If they belong to someone, maybe﹘ Maybe they'll hesitate. Think again."

It's a nice thought, Harry thinks. He doesn't want to say how much it probably won't matter, because Liam's trying. Liam's trying and Harry is more than happy to get lost in a little bit of wishful thinking. 

 

It's late summer and both he and Liam are a dark golden brown from working outside. The garden is blooming and Liam keeps making himself useful around Harry’s home. He's re-thatched the roof and patched up the holes, installed new shutters amongst a handful of other things.

Harry does his best not to ogle when Liam gets too warm, pulling off his shirt and wiping away the sweat. He'd blushed bright red the first time Harry had suggested it, then promptly blushed even harder when Harry'd tugged off his own in solidarity. 

It's second nature now, with the sun high in the sky and sweat beading along his hairline. Harry can look his fill outright, Liam intent on whatever project he's picked that day. The muscles in Liam's back are Harry's favorite, he's decided, the shift of them under darkened skin. 

"Haz?"

Harry shakes his head to clear his thoughts and realizes that Liam's staring at him in concern. 

"Are you okay?" Liam asks, then before Harry can answer, "You're awfully flushed. I think we should stop for a bit, get something to drink."

Thankful that Liam's a bit dense sometimes, Harry just nods his head and pushes himself off the ground. When he gets closer, Liam puts a hand on his shoulder, his palm hot against Harry's already warm skin. 

"All right?" he asks, squeezing Harry's shoulder. Harry is going to to have to take in a dunk in the river if this continues.

With a smile and a nod, he pushes past Liam and into the house. It's not much cooler inside, but it's a nice relief from the sun beating down. He pours them both a drink from the pitcher of water he keeps on the counter, setting Liam's down in front of him and looking up to find Liam watching him again. 

Thankfully he's saved from whatever questions Liam's got for him when Louis and Niall swoop through the open door. Liam looks up in surprise. 

"When did that happen?!"

Harry laughs. "Just this morning actually," he says. "Woke me up right around dawn, flapping around the place." He doesn't say how it had startled him so badly he'd fallen right out bed with a yell. 

Glancing over from where Zayn has finally ambled into the house after the other two, to Liam's face, he frowns. Liam looks sad. "Liam?"

He lifts a shoulder, watching the trio roll around on the floor. "Just a little disappointed, that's all. I was hoping I'd be there." 

Fondness floods Harry; Liam is such a sap he's found. He reaches out, tapping a finger over the top of Liam's hand. "S'okay, Li, there'll be other things."

"I know," Liam sighs, unconsciously tangling his fingers with Harry's, making Harry's heart skip a beat. He doesn't say anything though, just lets their hands rest on the counter. "Flying's such a big thing though." 

"Well," Harry draws out. "Until then, how about you come help me gather the tomatoes? The vines are about to fall over, there's so many. Don't know what I'm going to do with all of them, to be honest." He tugs at Liam's hand, pulling him toward the door again. Niall and Louis run up, chittering, begging for attention. It makes Liam laugh, the disappointment being replaced by a bright smile. 

He lets go of Harry's hand, to his disappointment, but just to lean down and scoop Niall up into his arms. Delighted, Niall coos and curls his neck over Liam's shoulder and pushing his nose into the curls at the nape of Liam's neck. 

"I need a haircut," Liam laughs a second later, Niall's huffing breath blowing his hair awry. 

"No!" Harry practically yells. It gets him a funny look and he pouts. "We match, is all." 

It makes Liam laugh again, reaching over to tug on the top knot that Harry's fashioned from an old scarf. "I've got a ways to go, Haz, to reach you."

Not so far, Harry thinks, then pushes the thought away. 

At his feet, Louis is scolding him, scratching at the leg of his trouser to be picked up as well. He swoops down with sigh. "Spoilt bugger," he murmurs and gets a quick nip at his ear for his troubles. It makes Liam laugh again though, so Harry suffers the indignity. 

They step out into the sunshine again and Harry can feel Louis stretch into the warmth hitting his scales, feel the shift in his muscles and knows he wants to fly. With a huff, Harry tosses him up. Liam sucks in a breath in surprise, watching as Louis spreads his wings, flaps twice to get traction and takes off, scales glinting in the sun. 

Harry glances over at Liam and finds him watching Louis. Even after all these months, there's still this bit of awe on his face that makes Harry's chest ache. 

"Try it," he says quietly, nodding toward Niall in his arms when Liam looks over. 

"Are you sure he's ready for that?" he asks, and Harry knows he's thinking about Niall's leg, how he still limps sometimes. He looks at Niall, can see the dragon watching Louis float through the sky with eager eyes. 

"Yes," is all Harry says, looking up to meet Liam's gaze. Liam studies his face for a moment, then nods. He thrusts Niall up high a second later and it takes no time at all for Niall to join Louis up in the air. They make a gorgeous pair, the sharp bronze of Louis against the white-gold of Niall. He looks back toward the open door of his home, wondering after Zayn. 

"He's asleep on your bed," Liam tells him, because of course Liam took note before they came outside. "In his usual sunbeam," he grins at Harry. A wide smile spreads across Harry's face in return. 

"Tomatoes, you said?" Liam asks a moment later. Harry nods. 

"Tomatoes," he confirms. 

 

As if trying to make up for lost time, all three of the dragons molt at least twice each over the next couple of weeks as summer wanes. Harry's becoming used to getting out of bed and stepping on the slightly crunchy leftovers of someone's latest shedding. 

For all he knows they must be growing, only Niall and Zayn show any outward signs of it. Niall's bigger than Louis now, though not by much, and Zayn seems longer as well, sleek and gorgeous still. Everything seems to be going along fine, Harry's still pining over Liam, Liam is still oblivious, and the dragons spend the day mostly amusing themselves until demanding attention. 

And then Harry wakes up one morning to the sound of retching.

 

"Has he moved at all?" Liam asks. He's sat on the floor, running a soothing hand down Zayn's back, from the top of his head down to the tip of his tail. The small dragon makes a tiny noise, pleased, but it's so faint that Harry barely hears it. 

"I got him to drink a bit of water earlier," Harry tells him, chewing on his thumbnail, "but he threw it up a few minutes later."

That makes Liam frown and he turns his attention back to Zayn. While they sit there silently, Louis shuffles up on his belly, nosing gently at Zayn. It earns him a soft huff of acknowledgement, but Zayn doesn't open his eyes. There's a strange little rumble from Louis's throat and then he's quiet, pressing the side of his head against Zayn's and closing his eyes too. 

From Harry's lap, Niall makes a distressed sound, loud enough to startle both Harry and Liam. Harry immediately reaches down, running a hand along the underside of the dragon's chin and neck and murmuring with as much reassurance as he can. He's fairly certain Niall's having none of it, jerking away. He doesn't move out of Harry's lap, though. 

Glancing up, he finds Liam watching the two of them. 

"Don't think I've ever seen him reject your touch," he says quietly. 

"He's been going back and forth all day, from Zayn to me." Harry shakes his head, sighing. "Looking at me like I'm supposed to do something, supposed to make him better." He can hear the thread of panic in his own voice and tries to reel it in. "Think he's angry I'm not."

"Can't be too angry," Liam murmurs, nodding his chin at the way Niall's securely curled up. Harry nods, grateful. 

They sit there for a while, the silence of the house broken only by the snap and crackle of the fire in the hearth and Niall's occasional huffy snores. 

"Was surprised to see you so early today," Harry finally breaks the silence. "Wasn't expecting that." He's glad though, opening the door to find Liam on the other side had sent an instantaneous flood of relief through him. 

Liam ducks his head, running a hand over the back of his neck. "Mary said you were just late when I went by this morning, which I thought was a little strange. She didn't though, so﹘" He shrugs. "I missed lunch working on some stuff, but when I went by a little later, you still weren't there so I knew something must be wrong. Mary, she asked me to check up on you when I could so I, um," Liam seems to stumble here and Harry thinks Liam might be blushing. He tilts his head, watching Liam. "I came over right then."

"What'd Paddy have to say to that, you running off after lunch? I don't want you to get into trouble, Liam," Harry adds quickly, trying to hide how pleased he is at Liam's worry. 

"I told Paddy I had to run an errand." 

He's _definitely_ blushing now. Insanely curious as to whatever's making Liam's face turn that lovely pink color, Harry's got his mouth open to ask when Zayn lets out another horrible retching sound. 

This one sounds different than the others though, almost as if he's got something stuck in his throat. Staggering up to his feet, Zayn wobbles for a moment and then makes the noise again. Louis's up now too, curious chitters and nosing at Zayn's face again. Zayn's back arches, his wings flapping out wide. Liam's close enough that it sends him back, leaning on his elbows to avoid getting hit in the face. 

Harry's got a hold of Niall, keeping him in place as he wiggles, trying to see what's happening. Louis's chirps are getting louder now as Zayn retches again. There's no liquid since he's not been able to keep anything down since this morning and the sound is harsh, guttural, in the depths of Zayn's throat. Harry can feel panic rise in his own. 

"Liam﹘" Harry says, frantic. Before he can say anything else though, Zayn gives a loud, belching cough right in Louis's face. 

Louis blinks once, then twice, his blue eyes even brighter surrounded by the soot that covers his head and halfway down his neck. 

The room is silent again, excepting the fire and Harry and Liam's harsh breaths. It takes a moment before Harry can suss out what he's just seen. Right as he does, Liam giggles. Harry glances over and finds Liam with a hand over his mouth, face turning red for an entirely different reason now. 

On the floor between them, Zayn stretches, shaking out his entire body, then lies back down. Niall jumps out of Harry's shocked hands and nudges until he's under one of Zayn's wings, cooing softly. Zayn answers him back, quiet and normal as you please. 

By now, Liam's on his back, giggling madly. Harry can feel his own mouth twitch, laughter escaping a moment later. Between them Zayn and Niall are sleeping soundly. Louis still looks as though he's no idea what just happened. 

Eventually he and Liam calm down. Harry watches the laughter that’s bright in Liam's eyes even as he manages to control himself. It's a wonderful look, his cheeks flushed and the happy crinkles evident at the corner of his eyes. Harry wants to touch them, but he manages to keep his hands in his lap, clutching at the material of his trousers. 

"I can't believe﹘" Liam shakes his head. "So interesting," he says a moment later, gesturing at Niall and Zayn, "how different they went about it. I'll have to make a note of it."

"A note of it?" Harry asks, curious. Liam just waves it away though, pushing up to his feet and scooping up a now-sulking Louis. He grumbles at Liam, scolding him, but Liam ignores it like he generally does when Louis's a wretch. 

"Aww, poor Lou," Liam says, laughter curling into his voice again. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Louis protests that too, a moment later, but Liam just laughs again. Harry sits there watching and feels more content than he's been in ages. 

 

Liam begins staying overnight. 

It happens accidentally, for the most part. Summer's heading into autumn rapidly, with more and more people traveling south. The blacksmith is busier than ever, and Liam's little charms, once a random fanciful idea, are popular enough that Paddy's taken on another apprentice so that Liam can focus on them. It's intricate, detailed work that's apparently exhausting. More often that not, post-dinner finds Liam half-asleep in the chair by the fire with one or more of the dragons on his lap.

After the fourth time, Harry nudges at Liam's shoulder. "Come on, Li." 

"Wha﹘?" Liam's head snaps up and he blinks slowly, trying to get his bearings. 

"Just move to the bed," Harry tells him, leaning over to lift Niall up from Liam's lap. It earns him a squeaky protest, but Harry just rubs his belly. "It's much more comfortable than this old chair, I promise."

Liam's blinks again, frowning. "I should just go home, don't want to put you out." Harry panics a little at that, not wanting for him to leave just yet. 

"Nonsense," he reassures Liam. "S'just a nap. I'll wake you up before it gets too late, okay?"

"Wanna talk to you," Liam mumbles, rubbing at his eyes. Harry doesn't think that's adorable at all. In his arms, Niall grumbles, reaching out his neck towards Liam. Even the dragons are besotted, Harry thinks. Which, not something new of course, but still it leaves him a little disgruntled. 

"Not gonna be much of a conversation if you're falling asleep on me, Li." He reaches out to tug on Liam's elbow, urging him to rise. They shuffle over to Harry's bed and Liam practically falls face first on it. He pushes his face into one of Harry's pillows. 

"Smells like you, " Harry makes out. "Like it," is next, followed by three words that make Harry's breath catch. "I like you."

Before he can say a word though, Liam's out cold. 

Niall wiggles out of his grip a moment later, curling along the line of Liam's side. Harry can't seem to make himself move, staring down at Liam's profile. While he stands there, trying to get his heart to settle down, Louis and Zayn hop up on the bed. Zayn curls up next to Niall while Louis makes his way up to the top of the bed, settling so that he can tuck his nose into the curls at Liam's nape. Harry should object he knows, but he understands the fascination. 

With a sigh, he shoves away the urge to join them and makes his way back over to his baking. 

 

"Don't you get tired of that?" Liam says a while later, voice full of sleep. 

Startled, Harry glances over toward his bed to find Liam watching him. "What?" he manages. 

Liam sits up on one elbow, nodding toward the loaf of bread he's just removed from a pan. "Baking. You do it all day, then come home and bake some more."

Harry shrugs, setting a towel over it. He makes his way back over toward the bed and sits down, drawing one leg up and keeping the other foot on the floor. Liam's dropped his head back down on the pillow again, blinking slowly. His hair is a riot of curls now, long enough that it falls into his eyes. 

Without thinking, Harry reaches out and brushes it back. Liam hums, pressing into Harry's touch. It makes Harry swallow hard, then pull his hand back to run it down the length of Zayn's back to keep himself from doing it again. 

"Harry?" He glances at Liam's face again. "Baking?"

Right. Answer Liam's question. 

"I love it," he shrugs, stroking Zayn's back again. This time it earns him a happy rumble, the dragon shifting so that Harry has access to the spot under his wing. With a chuckle, he obliges. "Plus," he adds, "I got some more of those bananas you bought. Perfected the bread finally, I think."

Liam makes an agreeable sound, then, "I should head home."

Harry wants to object, yell no or something equally stupid. He holds his tongue instead, just watches as Liam's eyelashes flutter. He's fighting sleep again and Harry knows he should poke him, prod him until he's upright and on his way home. But he doesn't want to.

"Haz," Liam murmurs. 

"Go to sleep," Harry says back quietly, and unable to resist any longer, reaches out to shove back that errant curl again. "You can be the first to try the bread in the morning, okay? A treat for putting up with us lot."

"I like putting up with you lot," Liam slurs, fading fast. "S'my favorite thing."

You're my favorite thing, Harry thinks, sighing softly. Then shaking his head at his own ridiculousness, gets off the bed to finish a few more chores. 

 

Harry wakes early, as accustomed, with his back overly warm and with a dragon tail in his face. 

For a moment, he thinks another one is laying across his hip ﹘ Zayn loves to drape himself at times ﹘ but it takes no time at all to figure out that it's Liam's arm there instead. There's a warm rush of air over the back of his neck and Harry realizes that sometime in the night, they must have both moved from their sides of the bed. He's now spooning with Liam, Liam's hand resting low on his stomach and entirely too near certain parts of his anatomy that are being extremely traitorous at the moment. 

He's trying to figure out exactly how to slide out of bed without waking Liam when Louis does the job for him, sitting up and letting out an atrocious gurgling yawn that's loud as a shot in the early morning silence. 

"Wha﹘?" 

Liam jerks awake, the hand around Harry's waist flailing out as Liam rolls onto his back. Harry's up in an instant and halfway across the room by the time Liam sits up. When Harry's safely ensconced behind his cooking cabinet, he glances over to find Liam scrubbing a hand over his face. He looks up, frowning when he catches sight of Harry. 

"I slept here?" Then, "You should have woken me up, Harry."

"It's nothing," Harry replies. Thankfully his morning problem seems to be going away, less the proximity to Liam. "I promised you some of this bread though, remember?"

Liam grins at that, nodding. "I vaguely recall you saying you'd perfected it. I hope so, after that last try."

"Heyyyy," Harry drawls out. Not that Liam's wrong, he'd completely misjudged the ratios for that particular batch. "It's called an experiment for a reason."

There's an outright laugh from Liam this time, as he swings his legs off the side of the bed. Raising his arms above his head, he stretches out and Harry can't help but be drawn to the line of skin at Liam's hips as his shirt lifts up. There's a dusting of dark hair that makes Harry swallow hard. 

 

Despite protesting he should stay and get some more rest, Liam heads into town with Harry. The sky is starting to lighten and Harry can’t stop himself from glancing over at Liam every few minutes or so. 

Liam’s wearing one of Harry’s shirts, an old one that’s well-worn, thin, and missing a top button or two. There’s a smattering of dark hair peeking out from the vee of the neck that’s making Harry both jealous and a little warm. He’s having trouble concentrating on their conversation; he’s not exactly sure what they’re talking about, to be honest.

“Everything alright?” Liam asks quietly. 

Harry only stumbles a little, but Liam’s quick to wrap a hand around his elbow and steady him. 

“Fine, fine.” Harry waves the concern away, paying special attention to the road before them. “What are you going to do,” he asks instead, “since you don’t have to meet Paddy for a while?”

Liam ducks his head and Harry would think he’s blushing, if it weren’t for the fact he can’t see Liam’s face properly to tell. “Thought I might sit with you for a bit, if you don’t mind?” 

“You don’t get tired of watching me bake?” Harry can’t help but tease, remembering Liam’s question from last night. And yes, that’s definitely a blush on Liam’s cheeks. 

 

“That shirt looks familiar,” Mary murmurs, watching as Liam turns back toward the bakery and waves, a smile wide on his face. 

Harry waves back, unable to stop his own mouth from grinning back. “It’s nothing,” he tells her, ducking his head. “He just fell asleep at mine yesterday. He works too hard,” he adds quickly, and makes his way back over to the lines of dough he’d been braiding. If he keeps his hands busy, maybe Mary won’t see the way they shake. 

“Still,” she says. “It shows he’s terribly comfortable with you.”

“It’s not anything.” Harry pinches the ends of the braid together, then sprinkles some cinnamon and sugar over the top of it. “It doesn’t mean anything, Mary. We’re good friends, that’s all.”

Mary snorts and thumps her hand on Harry’s work table, making him jump and look up. She points a finger at him. “‘Good friends don’t look at you the way that boy does.”

Shaking his head, Harry protests, “I would have seen it by now﹘”

“Then you’re not looking hard enough!”

Harry jerks back at her tone, frowning. She’s never spoken to him like that in all the years he’s known her. It must show on his face because her own softens. With a sigh, she says quietly, “You deserve to be happy, love. And whatever it is you’ve been hiding﹘” Harry’s eyes widen at that, “he’s obviously cared enough about you to be a part of that as well.”

Coming around the table, Mary rests a hand on Harry’s forearm. “He lights up when he sees you, boy. Everyone in the town can tell he’s mad about you.” Harry bites his lip, staring down into Mary’s sincere face. She grins suddenly, eyes bright and wicked. 

“Give him a good snog the next time he’s at yours. You know’ll for sure then!” 

A moment later, she’s out of the room, cackling laughter trailing behind her. Harry shakes his head, thinking. 

Maybe he’ll do just that. 

 

He doesn’t, of course. 

Liam’s so tired he can barely walk a straight line. Harry does his best to get him to stay overnight again, but Liam won’t hear of it. Doesn’t want to take advantage of Harry’s generosity, he tells Harry even as Harry wants to yell at him to take all the advantage he can. 

The three dragons whine and grumble in protest, darting around Liam’s feet as he makes his way towards the door. It nearly works ﹘ Harry can see the hesitation on Liam’s face ﹘ but in the end, Liam stumbles out the door towards town. 

It happens over and over that week, Liam heading home despite Harry, Louis, Niall, and Zayn’s protestations. It’s only on Saturday night, with Liam so very exhausted from another week of time-consuming, tedious work, that Harry’s protests finally work. 

“Just go to _sleep_ , Liam,” Harry presses. Liam blinks blearily at him, swaying where he stands. They’ve had a lovely dinner and a glass or two of the wine that Liam’d presented to Harry upon walking through the door. “You’re about to fall over,” Harry adds, stepping in and sliding a hand around Liam’s elbow. “I’ll worry myself sick if you head out now.”

“Don’t want to make you worry ‘bout me,” Liam mumbles. At Harry’s tug, he shuffles over to the bed and sits. Zayn’s already there, trilling softly as he ducks under Liam’s arm. Harry watches as Liam’s face softens, the way the corners of his mouth tilt up as he runs his fingers over Zayn’s head and down his neck. Louis protests at the attention; one mighty hop and he’s on the bed as well, nosing under Liam’s other arm even as Niall sits up to place his front legs on Liam’s knees. 

Harry can’t help laughing at the look on Liam’s face. Glancing up at the sound, Liam says, “They act like they haven’t seen me all week!”

“They miss you,” Harry shrugs, “when you’re not around.”

He has a lot in common with the three, Harry thinks, as Niall makes an absolutely forlorn noise at not being petted. It’s more than a bit sad on his part. 

He shakes the thought off when Liam looks up again, laughing. “I think I need another hand.”

“You need to sleep,” Harry insists. He walks over scooping Niall up and earning a happy coo as he rubs a knuckle under his chin. He shoos the other two back, and gets a grumble from Louis for it. Zayn watches and waits as Harry pushes at Liam’s shoulder to lay down. 

Liam catches Harry’s wrist, stopping him from stepping away. “You, too.”

“What?” Harry frowns, confused. 

“You should sleep too.”

It’s the last thing Harry needs really, to lay down beside Liam. There’s a stubborn set to Liam’s mouth that lets Harry know that he’s not going to give on this. With a huff, Harry says, “Fine.”

It earns him a slow, sleepy smile and Harry hates that he’s so weak for it. Liam’s fingers loosen around his wrist and Harry makes his way to the other side of the bed. For some semblance of self-preservation, Harry settles Niall between the two of them and lays on his side, facing Liam. 

He glances over to find Liam watching him, eyes at half-mast already. He frowns but it clears a second later as Louis moves into his regular sleep spot, mostly on top of Liam’s head. Although Liam can’t see him, he knows that Zayn’s curled on Liam’s other side, in the small of his back. 

“Missed all of you too,” Liam mumbles, drawing Harry out of his thoughts. As Harry watches, Liam’s lashes flutter closed. He’s asleep a moment later. 

Harry’s not sure how long he lays there, watching Liam. He makes this horribly cute snuffling noise, burying his face into Harry’s pillow, and it makes Harry sigh. In almost comedic timing, Niall, Louis, and Zayn do the same. 

“We’re all a bit hopeless, aren’t we?” Harry whispers. He gets another set of sighs. It would make him laugh, if it weren’t so stupidly sad. 

Niall shifts then, stretching up and bumping his nose again Harry’s chin. There’s the warm puff of air and a low rumble that sounds almost like a purr. Harry looks down, meeting bright blue eyes. Niall makes the noise again, watching Harry. 

“I know, Nialler,” Harry says softly, running a hand down the length of Niall’s back. “I know.”

 

Harry blinks awake to find Liam diligently slicing bread. He’s concentrating, eyebrows pulled together and teeth dug into his bottom lip as he works to make the slices even but not too thick. It’s almost too much for Harry, who barely stops himself from rolling over and screaming into his pillow with frustration. 

He must shift a bit anyway because there’s a disgruntled sigh at his back, someone’s talons flexing momentarily into the material of his shirt. Harry glances back over at Liam, but he’s none the wiser, humming softly to himself. It looks like he’s cutting bits of the salted ham from last night. 

Louis chirps sharply and Liam looks down on the floor where Harry presumes the bronze is sat. As Harry watches, Liam presses a finger to his lips, shushing softly. A second later, he drops a scrap of the ham and Harry can hear Louis’s happy little mumbles. Liam looks exceedly fond. 

He glances over at the bed.

“Oh,” Liam exclaims, eyes going wide. “I didn’t know you were awake!”

“You’ll spoil them,” Harry replies, like he’s not done the same thing himself. One of them has to stay strong in the face of Louis’ charm though. Liam just blushes, looking away as Harry swings his legs out of bed. Placing his feet on the floor, Harry stretches his toes until his right arch nearly starts to cramp. 

He still must make a noise because Liam says, “Harry?”

Harry waves him off and pushes up from the bed. A second later, he feels something bump his hand. Looking down, he finds Niall blinking up at him with those ridiculously bright, blue eyes. Harry grins as Niall rumbles a greeting, bumping his hand again. Unable to resist, he runs a hand over Niall’s head and down his neck. His scales are still warm from the bed and he practically purrs as Harry repeats the motion. 

Looking up, he finds Liam watching him with an incredibly fond look. It might make his heart pound a little harder. Maybe. 

“What?” he asks. 

Liam shakes his head, eyes crinkling up as he smiles. “You’ve no room to talk,” he tells Harry. “You’re just as bad as I am.”

Harry scratches at the little indent under the dragon’s jaw. Niall coos, eyes half-shut, and stretches out so far he nearly tumbles off the bed.“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry sniffs, scooping him up and making his way over. 

It earns Harry a laugh, Liam’s face open and happy. Harry’s almost relieved when Louis comes around the corner of the work table, sees Harry carrying Niall and immediately begins making a fuss. It’s a bit of chaos for a few minutes then, with Louis’ rather loud chatter and Niall’s excited replies. Eventually, Harry just puts Niall down on the floor, the two of them running off a second later ﹘ Niall following Louis like always. 

He finds Liam watching him again when he turns his attention back. 

“Everything alright?” he asks. He’s fairly certain he might be blushing. Liam nods, dropping his gaze again. The corners of his mouth turn up, pleased enough that Harry’s intrigued. He’s about to ask when he’s distracted by the piles of food Liam’s put together. 

“I’m hungry in the morning, Li, but I don’t think either of us are going to finish that.”

It’s a definite blush on his face this time and Harry can’t help grinning as Liam stutters out, “Oh! I thought, well﹘ It’s just such a lovely morning, and, ah﹘”

Harry laughs, unable to help himself and Liam huffs at him. 

“It’s such a lovely morning,” he finally gets out, “that I thought we might head toward the river. Explore a bit, you know.” He nods toward the fireplace where Niall and Louis are rolling around. “Take them and get some energy out in the fresh air. Together. All of us.” 

Harry glances over at the bed. Zayn’s made his way under the blanket, nothing but a lump in the middle of the bed and the tip of his tail peeking out. 

“I’m not entirely sure Zayn’s going to be up for that,” Harry laughs. 

“Sure he will!” Liam replies. “Just might take a bit of persuasion, that’s all.”

He makes his way over toward the bed, touching Harry’s elbow as he moves past. 

“Zayn,” Liam sing-songs once, then a second time. There’s a twitch under the blanket but Zayn doesn’t come out. Liam hums the dragon’s name again, laughter evident in his voice. When he reaches out to run a hand over the lump though, his touch is gentle, like it always is with Zayn. 

There’s definite movement then and when Zayn finally pokes a head out from under the blanket, blinking sleep-slow, Harry can practically see Liam melt. He runs both hands down Zayn’s neck, the dragon arching into the touch and reaching up to bump his head under Liam’s chin. It makes Liam laugh quietly and Harry’s fairly certain he’s going to throw up, he’s so stupidly in love. 

The moment’s broken, of course, by Louis flapping up onto the bed a second later. Not too broken though, Liam laughing again and Zayn twisting around with a series of chirps that Louis answers back immediately. 

“See?” Liam says to Harry. “Absolutely up for it.”

Zayn’s not the only one, Harry thinks, and then has to turn away as his face goes bright red. 

“Yes, yes,” Harry mumbles, putting his hands to work by packing up all the food Liam’s prepared. “Like we both don’t know how easy those three are for you.”

“And you?” Liam asks. 

“Me what?” Harry replies, bending down to try and find something that will fit all the food. 

“Are you easy for me, too?”

Harry chokes, trying to control his breathing as he pops back up to find Liam watching him, face curious.

“What?” he manages to get out.

Liam shrugs a shoulder. “If you’d rather stay here, we can do that. We don’t have to go.” 

“I think a day outside is a great idea,” Harry manages to say, after what feels an age of silence. “Besides,” he adds, smiling as enthusiastically as he can, “we can’t let all this go to waste, Liam!”

Liam sighs a moment later, sounding almost disappointed by his answer. As Harry stuffs the bread and meats into a basket, he decides it’s only his own yearning, playing tricks on him. 

 

It’s a wonderful day, one of Harry’s favorites. 

The weirdness from earlier is gone as they step outside, the three dragons racing around their feet. It makes Liam laugh, which makes Harry smile, of course. They set off on the short walk to the river, Liam asking question after question about the birds and the plants he sees. 

The canopy is dense enough to offer protection from the majority of the sun’s rays, but open enough that the air is bright around them. The find a spot under one rather large oak and Liam spreads out the blanket he’s been carrying. Harry does his best not to stare as Liam’s hands smooth it out as much as possible. 

Harry hears the swoosh, feels the air above his head move as one of the dragons zips by. He looks up to find it’s Louis, who stops a few feet away, flapping his wings to hover. 

Harry points a finger at him. “You’re a terror,” he scolds. Behind him, Liam laughs. 

He could swear Louis grins at him. Then, like a shot, he’s gone, straight up into trees. 

“Menace,” Harry mutters, and Liam laughs again. 

Niall’s nudging at the basket when Harry turns around. 

“We just ate!” Harry exclaims, shooing him away. Niall chatters at him and Harry stands there, hands on his hips. “You’ll get some, I swear.”

With a huff, Niall walks off. His disgruntled grumbling clear even after he disappears around a nearby tree. When Harry glances over, it’s to find Liam standing there with a hand over his mouth, doing his best not to laugh. 

“I told you they were going to be spoiled,” Harry says. He’s doing his best to frown at Liam, but it’s pointless. Especially after Liam can no longer hold in his laughter, the sound echoing around them, joyous and bright. It’s not long before Harry laughs as well. 

 

Harry’s leaned over, trying to point out the lichen that’s growing on the rocks below. This part of the riverbank is more steep than where they’ve stopped, so Harry’s doing his best to not get too close to the edge. He’s not entirely sure where Niall and Louis have got off to now, but Zayn’s hovering nearby. Mostly likely because Liam’s not too far away, listening. 

“It makes the most wonderful purple dye,” Harry explains. He makes a face. “Although Ms. Watson told me how they make it and that part’s a bit disgusting, but﹘”

Harry’s foot slips then, because of course it does. 

He can hear Liam shout as he flails and he’s a split second to bemoan the fact that his favorite boots are about to be ruined﹘and not to mention that falling down the bank is going to be plenty painful as well﹘when there’s a sharp tug at the back of his shirt. 

It’s strong enough that he stumbles back instead, landing hard against Liam’s chest. A second later Liam’s arm wraps around his waist and Harry’s already galloping heart rate goes up even more. 

Liam pulls him back a couple of steps before turning him around, both hands on Harry’s shoulders, and asking, “Are you alright?!” 

“Yes,” Harry gasps.He’s doing his best not to think about the way Liam’s fingers feel, the press of his thumbs against Harry’s collarbones. “Thanks, Liam. That was close.”

“Wasn’t me,” Liam frowns. “Zayn’s the one that snagged you back.” 

Harry’s eyebrows go straight up. Liam nods, glancing down to where Zayn’s sat, now at their feet. “Kind of funny,” he adds. “Like he was waiting, watching out for you.”

He looks back up at Harry, fingers pressing in tight, almost as if he doesn’t realized he’s doing it. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again. Harry nods, holding his breath a little. Liam’s terribly close. 

“Nothing hurt but my pride,” he manages to say. 

“Well,” Liam says. Harry can see him bite his lip, trying not to laugh as he adds, “We all know you’ve none of that anyway, right?”

“Heyyyy.” 

Liam laughs at that, brushing one hand over Harry’s shoulder and down his arm. He starts to take a step back and Harry almost whines. He’s considering just falling forward, planting his face in the curve of Liam’s neck, and begging Liam to kiss him, when Zayn hacks a cough. 

A very warm cough. 

When he looks down, it’s to find the toes of his boots covered in soot. 

“These are my favorite boots, Zayn,” Harry says, disgruntled now for a number of reasons. Zayn yawns, loud and long, uncaring. He flaps his wings a couple of times and then his head perks up, attention caught. A breath later, he’s off. 

Harry sighs. “No respect, I swear,” he mutters, jumping a little when Liam laughs. He’d forgotten for a split second they were standing so close. He’s reminded of it however, when Liam reaches back out to cup his hand around Harry’s elbow. 

“They’ve plenty of respect for you, I’m sure,” he tells Harry. Then, “Think I’m about ready for some lunch. You?”

Liam’s dropped his hand, fingers now curled loosely around Harry’s wrist so all Harry can do is nod dumbly. It’s taking everything not to just pull away and thread their fingers together. Maybe he could say it’s friendly hand-holding. Harry’s fairly good at convincing people of things; it’s the reason Mary initially hired him. 

There’s a bright smile aimed at him and then Liam’s turning away, tugging him forward. They’re about to round the last tree before the food basket and blanket when Niall startles them both, streaking by in a gold blur. He’s got something in his mouth that looks suspiciously like a salted ham sandwich. Harry narrows his eyes. 

“Niall﹘”

Louis swoops by then, startling him and Liam both, and cutting Harry off. His chittering is loud, and obviously delighted as he chases after Niall. Harry’s stepping after then when Liam stops him. 

Harry’s about to protest when Liam lets go of his wrist, sliding down to tangle their fingers together. The protest dies in his throat. Liam’s hand is warm, _so_ very warm against his own. 

“We’d best go see what mess they made,” Liam tells him, another one of those ridiculous eye-crinkle smiles on his face. “And if they’ve left any for us.”

Swallowing hard, Harry follows. 

 

It’s a good day. A _really_ good day.

Less so hours later, as Harry watches Liam walking away, heading back into town. An early start in the morning, he’d told Harry. 

 

“Louis, I swear if you don’t _knock it off_ ﹘!”

Harry sucks in a deep breath, closes his eyes, and tries to calm down. Liam left hours ago and while Zayn and Niall had moped around the house for a while before settling in front of the fire, Louis has been on an absolute _tear_ ever since. 

A nudge at his fingertips has Harry opening his eyes. Glancing down, he finds Louis stood there, just looking up at him. There’s a tiny whine, the softest heart-breaking sound Harry thinks he’s ever heard and all the anger and frustration inside him dissipates. With a sigh, he flops down on the floor, pulling Louis into his lap. 

The bronze goes easily, a soft trill as he curls his head over Harry’s shoulder and tucks his snout into the mess of curls there. Harry loses track of the time as they sit there, running a slow hand down Louis’ neck and back. It’s long enough that Niall and Zayn join them, one along each side as he finally tips back to lay on the floor. It’s almost too warm, but Harry’s certain they dragons needs as much comfort as he does. 

“We’re hopeless,” Harry says, voice loud in the empty room. “The lot of us.” He sighs. “Definitely hopeless.”

 

Liam quits putting up so much a fight after that, falling asleep at Harry’s house two or three nights a week. Always on Saturday nights, the entirety of Sunday spent exploring the forest or just lazing about the house. Harry will work on baking ideas and pretend not to watch as Liam sketches ideas and notes in his book. 

It’s lovely and all, but it turns out Liam’s a bit of a cuddler in his sleep. Harry’s woken up the last three Sundays with an arm around his waist and Liam curled around him, all body heat and solid weight against Harry’s back. It’s more than a little frustrating, to be honest.

Still, it’s not like Harry’s going to give it up. 

 

There’s a buzz about the neighborhood, people chattering here and there. Harry can hear it, is a little curious he’ll admit, but he woke up this morning with Liam’s face tucked into his neck, breath warm on his skin, and he’s done nothing but think of that all morning. Mary’s been grinning at him every time he catches her eye, but he’s ignoring that. 

He’s not realized he’s singing until a voice from the window says, “A singing baker? My trip just got tons better, I’ll say.”

Harry turns around, smile already widening as he takes in the gentleman grinning back at him. Scooping up a tray of scones, he makes his way over and sets it down. “There’s love in every one,” he says. “”m’Harry, by the way. Might have to add ‘singing baker’ after it now though. I quite like that.”

The stranger laughs, delighted, and Harry can’t help but preen a little bit. The man is handsome, with a strong jaw and lines around his mouth that mean he’s quick to laugh. Also, he looks up and down at Harry in a way that Harry’s seen before. In a way he wishes Liam would look at him. 

That last thought makes Harry sigh. Something must show on his face as the stranger tilts his head a little, eyes narrowing. He’s got his mouth open to respond when Liam comes around the corner. Harry’s gaze goes to him immediately, and he knows there’s too much emotion on his face but he can’t help smiling at the sight. 

It’s a bit heartening to see the way Liam’s face falls the tiniest bit when he notices Harry’s got a customer. “If you’re busy﹘”

The stranger turns around then, as if startled by the sound of Liam’s voice. He’s not the only one either, as Harry watches Liam go pale. 

“Nick?!” Liam gasps.

“Ah, Mr. Payne, exactly who I was looking for today!” Both Harry and Liam frown.

Liam’s obviously uncomfortable, nervous at the other man’s presence. “You know each other?” Harry finally asks. 

There’s a pause, Liam glancing from Nick to Harry. “He’s the records keeper for the guild,” Liam tells him, voice quiet. 

“Oh,” Harry replies. Then, “ _Oh_.” 

Harry watches in silence as Liam does his best to remain calm, ignoring Nick’s previous statement and asking what Nick’s doing so far away from his nice place in the capitol. 

“You were always rather a creature of comfort,” Liam adds. 

“True, true,” Nick nods. “But the guild had a few questions about your resignation, Liam.” As Harry watches, it looks as though Nick pouts, adding, “I’m very sad not having you around anymore; no one laughs at my jokes now you’re gone.”

Harry has a moment of silly jealousy, thinking meanly, _Because he’s got my jokes to laugh at now._ Something must show on his face because Liam glances at him, frowning. Doing his best to smooth out his features, Harry grins widely as Nick turns back to him. It seems to relax him, Nick’s smiling back at him immediately. 

“I’ve got to go﹘” Liam makes a motion, back over his shoulder, and takes a step back. “Back to work and all. S’busy.” He’s turned and back down the road before either of them can say anything. 

Nick’s gaze follows him, considering, before he turns that look to Harry. 

“Do you know Liam well?” he asks after a moment, as Harry fiddles with the scones, head down. 

“Well enough,” he replies. Can’t help adding, “He’s an honest lad, hard-working from what I’ve seen.” 

Nick hums at his response and Harry has to work really, really hard not to demand an explanation for the sound. He manages to hold his tongue, doing his best to keep his face blank as Nick studies him. In the end, Nick buys his scone without interrogating Harry further and heads out to find a room at the inn. 

 

Harry waits as long as he can, finishing a couple loaves of bread and some biscuits before he can’t take it any longer. Tossing off his apron, he grabs a sticky bun and a treat for Paddy, gives Mary a kiss on the check, and murmurs, “Taking a quick break.”

Mary’s laughter echoes after him, but at least she doesn’t holler anything embarrassing. Harry’s thankful for the small things.

He practically slides to a stop in front of Liam’s workstation a few minutes later, Liam’s eyes going wide at the sight of him. Paddy just waves them both away, treat in his hand. He’s used to the two of them, Harry realizes, and can’t help the warmth that rolls through him at that. 

The feeling doesn’t last long as Liam curls a hand around his elbow, asking, “Did he say anything else after I left?”

Harry shakes his head. “Why is he here, Liam? What questions do you think the guild has? I mean, your resignation was pretty straight forward, right? He seemed alright though, Nick, I mean,” Harry can’t help adding. 

“You seemed to be getting along well,” Liam mumbles, ducking his head at the hurt look on Harry’s face. 

“He seemed a nice bloke, is all,” Harry replies. “I’ll hate him if you’d like, but I’d rather not. I did like his hat, at least.” It had been a very nice hat, dark blue with a most gorgeous peacock feather tucked in the band.

Harry blinks, only to find Liam looking at him funny. His eyes are soft though, so Harry doesn’t feel bad, leaning in when Liam lets out a little huff of laughter. 

“He _is_ a nice person,” Liam tells him. A fond look crosses his face. “Nick always took the time to talk _to_ me, not at or over me like most of the guild administrators did. He’s rather a talkative fellow actually; I didn’t understand a lot of what he’d tell me, but he’s ever so funny.” Liam ducks his head, pressing his lips together and says softly, “Of _course_ you’d like him.”

Before Harry can ask what exactly Liam means by that last statement, Liam’s standing up straighter, shoulders back. “It’s probably best if I stay away for a few days, figure out exactly what Nick wants. How best to get him out of town as quickly as possible.”

It sounds like a terrible idea to Harry. “Liam﹘”

“Trust me,” Liam interrupts. “I’ve got experience handling Nick﹘” Harry frowns at that, another flash of jealousy rushing through him. “﹘I’ll keep them safe, Harry.” His gaze is intense when Harry looks up at that. 

“I promise you that,” Liam adds, voice quiet but sure. He’s got both hands on Harry’s shoulders now, fingers pressing in hard, like he can impart his determination via touch. It’s all Harry can do to nod, feelings thrumming under his skin. He walks away a few moments later, waving a goodbye to Paddy and stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way back to the bakery, still dazed. 

 

Liam does as he says, stopping by in the mornings to get his sticky bun but not staying for conversation. He doesn’t come by for lunch either and Harry knows the reason, sees Nick wandering the streets. He stops by as well, funny and well-spoken like Liam had said. Harry still covets Nick’s hat a little and enjoys talking with Nick. He misses Liam though. 

It’s obvious he’s moping, enough that Mary comments on it. Harry’s not quite sure what to tell her, so he doesn’t say anything, shrugging and making another set of sticky buns. It earns him a soft pat on his shoulder and a quiet murmur, _that Liam’ll come around soon, love._

It’s no better at home, the dragons confused and whiny. Zayn’s worryingly lethargic, unmovable from the blanket next on the chair after the first couple of days. Louis’ taken to staring at the door, waiting, and Niall keeps going back and forth between the two and then over to Harry, with little questioning noises that break his heart. 

It’s the worst week of his life. 

 

“You’ve _got_ to come over,” Harry insists. Even Louis refused to get out of bed this morning; it’s beginning to worry Harry something fierce. He’s leaning over as close as he can, what with a large vat of hot coals between the two of them. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating Liam’s shoulders, not that Harry’s noticed that. At all. 

A heartfelt sigh brings Harry’s attention back to Liam’s face and it’s some consolation that Liam looks wretched when he insists, “I _can’t_ , Haz. Nick’s not﹘”

Flinging out his arms, Harry hisses, “I don’t _care_ about Nick﹘”

“Well, that’s proper rude.”

With a startled yelp, Harry spins around to find Nick standing there, watching the two of them with a curious tilt to head. Nervous, Harry runs a hand through his hair, adjusting the scarf holding it back. He carefully doesn’t look right at Nick. 

“Everything alright then?” Nick asks a moment later, when it’s apparent neither of them are going to speak. 

“Everything’s fine,” Liam finally answers. “Was just, um, talking to Harry about, ah, a charm.” Harry nearly rolls his eyes. Liam’s a _terrible_ liar. 

“Looks like you’ve got plenty already,” Nick says, indicating Harry’s necklace, hanging open in the vee of his shirt. “S’quite a collection you have,” he adds. Harry just nods, glancing over at Liam. He looks a bit lost, unsure, and all of a sudden Harry doesn’t care if Nick finds out. He will, he knows, once he’s back home and can get his head back on straight, but right now he just _misses_ Liam. He just wants everything to go back to the way it was. 

Something must show on his face because Harry barely gets out, “Liam, you _need_ ﹘” before he’s cut off. 

“We’ll discuss it later, Harry.”

It’s startling, the shortness of Liam’s tone. Enough so that Harry flinches, taking a step back. . 

“Harry﹘”

“Forget it,” Harry mumbles and turns away. “Nevermind, I’ll just.” Biting his lip, Harry manages a short nod at Nick before he starts to move away from the smithing station. It feels like there’s something in his eye and Harry blinks a few times, trying to clear them. Probably just some smoke or ash from the coal pit. 

Liam says his name again, but Harry ignores it, making his way back to the bakery. 

 

The sun’s long since risen and he’s still in bed. Harry knows he’s sulking, tangled up in the blankets. At least he’s not the only one; he’s surrounded by the other three. Niall’s nestled at the top of his head, snout tucked into Harry’s curls, and Zayn is at his back, head resting on Harry’s hip. Louis, on the other hand, has made his way under the other pillow, the one Liam uses when he sleeps over. He’s too big now to fit under it entirely, so Harry can see that that Louis’ got his back to him. 

He’s been ignoring Harry ever since Harry came home last night, once again without Liam. 

“C’mon, Lou,” Harry whines, voice quiet. “It’s not like I didn’t try.” _It’s not like I don’t understand,_ he thinks. 

All he gets is silence, even when Zayn murmurs a soft rumble of noise. With a sigh, Harry shoves his face into his own pillow. It’s more than a little pathetic, but it’s warm in his cocoon of blankets and dragons, so he lets himself drift off again. 

He’s in that weird state of being just on the edge of sleep when he feels the bed move. Dragging his eyes open, he sees Louis shuffling around, head popping out from under the pillow. A second later, Louis’ scrambles off the bed and Harry props himself up on one elbow, watching as Louis races across the room. He can feel Niall nosing at his neck and even Zayn lifts his head, curious. 

Louis’ carrying on like crazy, letting loose a series of sharp yips and excited trills that practically tumble over each other. It must be catching because before Harry can even call out, Niall and Zayn are on the floor. They nearly trip each other in their excitement, wings and tails getting a bit tangled up. Soon enough it’s sorted and they’re joining Louis, who’s now at the door, up on his hind legs and scratching at the wood. 

There’s only one reason they’d be so excited, Harry knows, and his heartbeat picks up. Sure enough, there’s a tentative knock at the door a moment later. 

“Come in,” Harry hollers, clenching his fingers in the blankets. 

The chatter is so loud when Liam comes through the door, Harry almost can’t hear Liam’s laughter. He stares though, at the smile that’s spread so wide Liam’s eyes are nearly shut with it. It’s chaos then, as Liam bends down to greet each of the dragons. 

Harry’s still sat there in bed, watching, when Liam finally looks up. 

“Lazing about in bed, Harold?” he teases, biting his lip like he’s unsure of his welcome.

The corners of Harry’s mouth tilt up, even as he shrugs. “Just a slow start today, that’s all.” Pushing the blanket off, he swings his legs around and gets his feet on the floor. Glances over, he says, “Could do some breakfast now. If you’ve not had any?”

Harry’s smile widens as Liam shakes his head. Standing up, he adds, “I’ll get that started then.” Nodding at the three dragons still clamboring at Liam’s feet, “Looks like you’ll be busy for a while.”

He does his best to ignore Liam while he’s mixing the dough for scones. It’s impossible not to hear him though, murmuring nonsense at Niall, Louis, and Zayn. Their excited chattering has toned down, now just softer chirps and purrs. He’s so intent on not looking, at focusing on the task at hand, that he jumps at the touch of hand on his elbow. 

Letting out a yelp, Harry makes a frantic grab at his bowl as it goes skittering across the cooking cabinet. He manages to catch it and turns toward Liam, finding him standing there with a sheepish look. 

They just stare at each other for a bit, not saying anything until Liam blurts out, “I’m _so_ sorry, Hazza. I didn’t mean﹘”

“No, no, shut up,” Harry interrupts. Unable to help himself, he flings his arms around Liam’s shoulders. “I’m the wretch,” he mumbles into Liam’s neck, exhaling when Liam’s arms wrap around his back. “I _know_ you were just trying to keep us a secret. To keep us safe.”

“I missed you all _so much_.” Harry’s heart is in his throat at how sincere Liam sounds. “Worst week ever, I swear.”

Harry laughs at that, ignoring how wet it sounds. Adds his own, “Same.” His, “Louis was absolutely _horrid_ ,” makes Liam laugh and Harry just soaks it up, relishing the warmth of Liam’s arms around him. 

“Louis is an angel, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liam tells him, making Harry snort. He doesn’t move and neither does Liam. 

Almost as if he knows, a second later Harry can hear the rush of wings, knows it’s Louis nipping at his fingers. It’s confirmed when Harry pulls back and finds Louis staring at him over Liam’s shoulder. 

“You’re a menace,” he mutters, even as Louis tugs at Liam’s sleeve, still eyeballing Harry. 

“You know the rules, Lou.” Liam laughs, turning to scoop him up. Harry reluctantly lets his arms drop. Liam’s walking back toward the fireplace, talking softly to the bronze while Niall and Zayn scurry around his feet. It’s the most active Harry’s seen Zayn in days. Liam looks so happy with a lapful of dragons that Harry has to look away, chest aching. 

He can’t look away for long though and turns back just as Liam looks up at him, giving him a wide smile. It would take a stronger man that Harry to not return it. 

 

They’re drifting off to sleep that night, heads on pillows and facing each other. Harry’s doing his best to not fall asleep, suddenly scared that Liam’s going to be gone in the morning if he does. 

“You’ll stay, right?” he mumbles, eyes drifting closed. He snaps them open again. “You’ll be here in the morning?”

There’s the soft touch of fingers at his temple, pushing a curl behind his ear. Harry leans into it, humming. 

“Course, I will,” Liam replies, voice quiet. “Promise.” Then, “Go to sleep, Haz.”

His eyelids are so heavy, exhaustion from the last week finally hitting him. He mumbles, “Missed you.”

There’s a _missed you more_ just as he slips under. He’s not quite sure if it’s real, or if he just wanted to hear it so bad that he’s made it up, but he’s asleep before he can reach out, before he can ask. 

 

The sun’s nearly at peak in the sky and Harry lifts his face, letting the warmth soak in. It’s been a wonderful morning, waking up to find Liam watching him and seeing the smile crawl across his face as Harry blinked slowly into wakefulness. He could feel the warmth from Liam’s body and the press of dragons at the curve of his bank; Louis in his usual spot above Liam’s head. 

It had felt good, perfect even, and Harry’d pushed away the annoying voice in his head that whispered, _Nearly._ He’ll take this, as long as Liam’s willing to come around. They’ve spent most of the morning talking about nothing, new recipes and Liam’s ever-growing designs demand, all the while ignoring the one topic they really, really need to talk about. 

Liam coughs and Harry drops his chin, looking over. Dark spots dance in his vision every times he blinks and it takes a minute before he can see Liam clearly. When he can, he finds Liam watching him with a fond smile. Harry smiles back. It takes a moment, but Harry notices the silence. 

Glancing around, there’s no dragons in sight. “Where are﹘?”

Amusement laces Liam’s voice as he states, “Something of great importance in the brush evidently. Louis took off like a shot, Zayn right behind him.” He actually laughs then. “So of course Niall﹘”

“Followed,” Harry finishes, and can’t help laughing too. 

Liam glances toward the forest, the smile on his face falling a little. “I did miss you,” he murmurs. Looking back at Harry, he adds, voice insistent, like Harry could doubt him, “I really did, you know. All of you.” He bites his lip and Harry can feel himself digging teeth into his own. “I had to make sure and the best way to do that was to stay away﹘”

It’s obvious Liam’s working himself up and Harry moves closer, reaching out to brush his fingers over the back of Liam’s wrist. 

“I _know_ that, Li.”

“You just﹘ You just looked so upset the other day.”

“I was being an arse, that’s all.” He can’t help wrapping his fingers around Liam’s wrist then, pressing into the skin. “None of us were handling your absence very well and I just got a little desperate.”

“Desperate, huh?” Liam’s eyes dance at that, the corners of his mouth turning up. His face is so open and wonderful that Harry’s breath catches. It’s so stupid, this feeling, and it feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest all of a sudden. Before he can do something foolish, like blurt out his feelings, Liam sighs. It’s heavy, with an edge of wariness. 

Harry tilts his head. “Liam?”

“I’ve answered all his questions.” He shakes his head, rubbing his free hand over the back of his neck before looking up at Harry again. “He’s not asked anything about the eggs, so I’m not exactly sure _what_ Nick’s looking for. Why he’s still in town.”

“Each time I come around, you’re talking about me. I’m starting to get a complex. ” 

They both jump at the sound of Nick’s voice. It breaks the hold Harry has on Liam, but he doesn’t move away. 

“What are you doing here, Nick?” Liam demands. He’s only half-turned toward the other man, a wary eye on the treeline. Harry swallows, doing his best to hide his sudden nervousness. 

“I know when you’re lying to me, Liam James Payne,” Nick replies, ignoring Liam’s question. He looks decidedly put out by the thought. “I thought we were friends!”

“Of course we’re friends!” Liam says. “But you work for the guild!”

“So did you!” Nick shouts. There’s flailing arms as he adds, “You’ve been strange all week! Why are you lying to me? What aren’t you telling me?” 

“Just go home, Nick!” Liam hollers back. Harry’s not sure he’s ever seen Liam this upset before, eyebrows pulled together and shoulders back. It’s distracting enough that Harry doesn’t notice Louis until he swoops out of the canopy and snatches Nick’s hat off his head. 

Any other time, Harry would laugh at the shrill screech Nick lets out. There’s not really any time to though, as Niall and Zayn come bounding out of the treeline and Nick practically stumbles in shock, staring blankly at the two of them as they chatter excitedly. Louis lands nearby, hat still between his teeth, and Nick looks to him. 

“My hat,” he says. He glances at Harry. “A dragon has stolen my hat.”

“Well, to be fair, you _were_ yelling at Liam and Louis is quite protective of him.” He can feel Liam’s eyes on him, but he keeps his gaze on Nick. “They all are, actually.”

It’s true; he can feel Niall wedged in the space between him and Liam, and when he looks, Zayn is at Liam’s other side, watching Nick as warily as Nick is watching them. There’s a rush of pride and Harry turns his attention back to Nick, raising his chin and giving him a challenging glare.

“Ugh,” Nick huffs. “The aggressive display of, of﹘” he waves a hand around, “this isn’t needed.” Next to him, Harry can feel Liam relax. His own shoulders loosen at that. They stand there for a minute, silent, none of them sure how to proceed from here. 

Nick is the one to break the silence, glancing over at Louis and tilting his head. “Is he _eating_ my hat?!?!”

 

Harry makes tea once they’ve moved inside, taking care to sit close but not too close to Liam. Nick, sat across from them, keeps poking a finger through a hole in his hat with a woebegone sigh. 

“I _am_ sorry about that,” Liam tells him. “Louis can be a bit, um, forward?”

Harry snorts, shoving his face into his teacup as Liam presses his lips together to keep from laughing too. Nick just sighs again. He looks up though, face openly curious.

“Louis?” Nick asks. Liam nods, pointing to where Louis’ sat on the counter, staring at Nick without blinking. Harry takes another sip of tea, smiling into his cup. 

“They’ve names then?” Nick questions. Liam nods again, points to Zayn, who’s watching from the bed. “And the gold one?” Nick asks. 

“Niall,” Liam answers, then points to floor beside Nick’s chair. Niall chirrups, curious and fearless and friendly, and bumps Nick’s thigh when he notices Nick’s looking at him. That makes Nick swallow, glancing over at Liam, then Harry, before he raises a hand, hesitant. 

“Go on,” Harry says, quietly. Niall’s good at this part. 

Nick runs his fingers over the top of the dragon’s head, earning a pleased coo from him. Louis hisses and Nick twitches in his seat, jerking his hand back. 

“Oh hush, Lou,” Liam mutters, even as Zayn warbles something similar from the bed. Nick’s eyes widen as Louis huffs, hopping off the counter to make his way into Liam’s lap. He’s still eyeballing Nick’s hat, Harry can tell. 

That’s all Niall was waiting for, it seems. Two seconds later, he’s in Nick’s lap, making all these _pet me more_ sounds and Nick’s still hesitant, but there’s a look of utter delight that’s starting to make his way over his face. 

“Friendly sort, isn’t he?” Nick says, figuring out the spot under a wing that makes Niall nearly melt into a puddle. 

“The friendliest,” Liam says, voice quiet. 

Nick jerks his chin at Louis. “Still not sure about that one however.” 

“Like I said,” Liam replies, “he’s just protective.” 

“I wouldn’t let that hat out of your sight for a bit though,” Harry jumps in. “Louis does tend to latch onto things. Ridiculously stubborn...” 

“And that one?” Nick looks over at Zayn, who appears to have fallen asleep. 

Harry grins. “Well, he's just pretty, isn’t he?” 

Nick nods at that. A contemplative look passes across his face. “I’m not sure we’ve ever seen one like that before.”

“And you never would have, if I’d carried out that last job.” Liam says, and Nick sighs. 

“I know the guild has its issues﹘” Harry snorts, earning a frown from Nick. “But I’m sure if you just explain﹘” 

“We both know that’s not how it works, Nick.” 

“Yes, yes we do,” Nick says. He sounds apologetic at least, which Harry is glad for. Nick continues to pet Niall, the dragon’s happy hums carrying easily in the ensuing silence. Harry steals a glance at Liam only to be caught in the act. It earns him a small smile that Harry can’t help returning. 

“I’ll have to think on it,” Nick finally says. Harry manages to drag his eyes away from Liam and looks over to find Nick watching. “About what to do with regard to the guild,” he continues, smirking at Harry. He’s not blushing, Harry decides. He’s _not_. Nick seems to take pity on him then, turning his attention back to Liam.

”Until then, however, you should tell me how to win that one over,” he points to Louis, “and keep my hat.”

 

The next few days pass in a blur. Nick takes to passing the afternoons at the bakery with Harry, elbows on the window ledge, nattering on at Harry whilst he rolls out dough. It turns out they’ve a lot in common, despite the gap in age between the two of them. 

Also, Nick is more than happy to expound on anecdotes about Liam; he’s basically Harry’s new favorite person. 

 

Liam seems more than happy to see Nick when he comes around the corner for his lunch break. At least until the fourth day, when Harry catches a disgruntled frown on his face. It’s gone so fast that Harry’s certain he’d only imagined it.

At least until the moment Liam says, “Shouldn’t you be attending to guild matters instead of talking Harry’s ear off?”

Nick’s eyebrows go straight up and Harry can’t help his, “ _Liam!_ ”

For a moment Harry’s sure Liam’s going to apologize for being rude, but instead, Liam bites his lip and squares his shoulders, looking straight on at Nick. 

“You said you needed to think and it’s been _days_. I’m not sure talking to Harry all day is very helpful.”

There’s a decidedly amused tilt to Nick’s mouth when Harry looks over, which is a relief. But still, “That’s not very nice, Li,” he says. It’s very uncharacteristic of Liam. 

A flush deepens Liam’s cheeks and Harry _didn’t_ imagine the unhappy look from earlier; it’s back on Liam’s face when he finally turns his attention to Harry. 

“Seems to me, you’re being nice enough for both of us, Styles,” he says, tone short, before turning and striding away without another word. 

“What﹘? Liam!” Liam’s shoulders hunch, but he doesn’t turn around and then he’s around the corner, gone from sight. 

All Harry can do is stand there and blink, shocked. Liam’s never said his name like that before. 

“Styles?” Harry jerks at the sound of Nick’s voice. “Styles is your last name? Any relations to Gemma Styles?”

Still staring off in the direction Liam went, Harry shrugs. “She’s my sister.” The noise Nick makes at that makes Harry look at him, eyebrows pulling together. “How do you know my sister’s name?”

Nick’s face lights up. Ignoring Harry’s question, he flaps a hand around, demanding, “Why didn’t you _say_ so? This could solve everything!” Frowning harder, Harry’s about to ask how in the world Gemma could help when Nick, well excited now, tells him, “I’ve got to go!”

He’s off down the street before Harry can even say a word, leaving Harry staring in confusion for the second time that day. 

 

The next evening Harry opens his door to Liam, standing there and looking hesitant. 

“Harry, I﹘”

He finds he doesn’t really care, he’s just happy that Liam’s there. He pulls him inside, hugging him with one arm, and saying, “I made some of that casserole you like.”

Liam sags against him, curling into his side, and Harry’s good with that.

 

“Have you seen Nick?” Liam asks abruptly, a few nights later. 

They’ve been sat for an hour or so, Harry reading with Niall sprawled across his lap. Liam’s been scribbling away in his journal at the table, Louis and Zayn curled around each other at his feet. Harry’s been doing his best to ignore how happy the domesticity is making him, so he jumps a little when Liam’s voice breaks the silence.

“What?” Then, “No, not since, you know﹘” He breaks off, unsure of how to say _that day where you acted jealous about all the attention Nick was giving me, but I’m not really sure if that’s what it was or just what I wanted it to be_. 

Liam saves him though, grimacing. “Not since the day I was an arse then?” He opens his mouth to say something else, but changes his mind it looks like to Harry. Instead, he sighs, flipping the quill in his hand. He looks almost nervous. “S’bit strange, isn’t it?”

“A little,” Harry agrees, dragging his eyes away from Liam’s hands and looking up. “Why _were_ you acting like that?” pops out of his mouth before he can stop it. Liam’s eyes widen. 

“Oh. Um.” Harry would swear Liam’s cheeks are starting to flush. “I just, well. It seemed like he wasn’t really doing anything to me? And it’s not like I expect him to solve our problem all by himself, but he _did_ say he would try. Except all he seemed to be doing was talking to you all day.”

He looks disgruntled again at the thought, a tiny frown marring his forehead. He reminds Harry of one of the puppies the local dairy farmer brings to town every spring. 

He’s about to tease when Liam adds in a soft voice, “Also, I might have been a little jealous?” He’s definitely blushing now and Harry’s heartbeat kicks up. “I just. I know Nick’s a really great person? But you were my friend first and I hated the thought that you might like him better. I know that’s a terrible thing to think.”

Anyone else would probably be confessing all of this to the table, but Liam’s head is up and he’s looking straight at Harry even though Harry can tell he feels wretched at his confession. And that’s it, really, for him. 

“You know you’re the most important person in my life, don’t you?” Liam does duck his head then, biting his lip.

“You _are_ ,” Harry insists. “You’ve done _so_ much for me, there’s no way I could ever tell you how much, Liam. And the dragons absolutely adore you and I spend half my time in perpetual fear that something’s going to happen and we’re going to lose you﹘”

“Harry﹘”

Harry’s worked himself up now; Niall’s sat up in his lap, bumping his snout against Harry’s chin. Even Zayn’s popped his head up at the tone of his voice. It’s so very ridiculous that they’re having this conversation with the half the house between them, Harry thinks, but he can’t seem to stop himself from talking.

“And I’m not exactly sure what we’d do if something _did_ happen to you. I mean, you saw how bad it was when you had to stay away for a week. We’d probably all just wither away and﹘”

“ _Harry﹘_ ”

“No,” Harry rushes on. He takes a huge breath, this is it. “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say, okay? I need you to hear this, need you to know that I think, no I _know_ I’m in﹘” 

A knock on the door cuts him off and Harry nearly yells in frustration. 

Before he can tell Liam to ignore it, however, Niall chirrups loudly, jumps off Harry’s lap, and is scrambling for the door. Not even Harry can disregard that level of enthusiasm. When he glances over at Liam, all he receives is a shrug. Liam looks lost in thought, eyes a little distant as Harry pulls his gaze away to answer the door. 

Niall’s scratching at the door, chattering away when Harry finally gets there. From the corner of his eye, he can see Louis slinking out from under the table and sitting on his haunches, waiting. 

“Niall,” Harry admonishes. “You’ve got to move or I can’t open the door.” 

It does no good and Harry eventually nudges him over with his toes. It earns him a gentle nip and a surprise belch of flame that makes Harry squawk and dance back on the other foot. Thankfully, it’s mostly just heat and not real fire. Still, Harry can’t help glaring down a little as he opens the door. 

“Hello there!” Nick says, brushing right past Harry and immediately scooping Niall up to the dragon’s obvious delight. “You’re my favorite,” he coos, scratching under Niall’s chin and moving further into the house. 

Harry scowls again, moving to push the door closed. “Well, hello to you too﹘”

That’s as far he gets before another, familiar but long not-heard voice rings out.

“Harry Edward Styles, are you raising baby dragons _without me_?”

Shocked, all Harry can do is stand there as his sister marches through the door. He blinks, then blinks again, croaking out a strangled, “Gemma?”

“No,” she snaps, “your _other_ sister,” then pulls him into a hug so tight it squeezes all the air from his lungs. He wraps his arms around her and squeezes back just as hard. Burying his face in her neck, he sucks in a large gulp of air, taking in her scent ﹘ the one that feels like home and family. It’s been far too long. 

He reluctantly pulls back. “Gemma﹘”

“We’ll talk about this later,” she interrupts, stepping back. “First I need to ﹘ oh!” She’s staring at Liam now, who’s still sat at the table watching everything with wide eyes. Nick’s taken Harry’s chair, ignoring the lot of them to continue sweet-talking an obviously already enamoured Niall. Harry would roll his eyes if he wasn’t suddenly scared of the look in his sister’s eyes. 

“You must be Harry’s Liam,” she says. There’s something a bit quelling in her tone and Harry bites his lip, unsure.

“Gem﹘”

“I suppose I am.” Liam’s voice is soft when he answers her, but firm. The two of them stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, until Gemma nods sharply and turns her attention to the bronze, who hasn’t moved at all during the ruckus. He’s watching Gemma like a hawk, eyes sharp, as if he recognizes his own. 

It pulls Harry out of his thoughts on Liam’s quiet statement, and Harry’s suddenly thinking of growing up instead. The innumerable pranks Gemma played on him. How ridiculously clever she is, not unlike the dragon in front of her. 

“No,” he groans. “No, you are _not_ bonding with Louis. I won’t allow it.”

She ignores him, like always. 

“Louis, huh?” Squatting down, she murmurs, “Hey there, Lou. How you doing?” Louis’s in her lap before Harry can blink, cooing prettily at her. She grins, running a hand from the top of his head all the way down his back. It earns a delighted rumbling and her grin widens. 

Harry throws up his hands and Liam’s warm laughter carries across the room. “I think it’s too late, Haz.”

“You laugh now,” he grumbles. “Just wait.”

He’s about to complain some more when Gemma inhales sharply. She points at Zayn, now curled around Liam’s feet, then turns her head to glare at Nick. “You could have told me!” 

Nick shrugs. “I did.”

“You didn’t!” Gemma voice raises. “You said my brother was hiding dragons and that I would find it particularly interesting, but you said absolutely _nothing_ about a _Draconis onyxia_!”

“And yet here we are, yes? And you’re finding it particularly interesting, aren’t you?’

Harry almost wants to warn Nick, but Liam speaks up first. 

“Are you talking about Zayn?” The dragon in question lifts his head, bumping against Liam’s knee. Liam reaches down to scratch behind his ears. There’s a pleased trill at the touch.

“Zayn?!? You named a _Draconis onyxia_ Zayn?” Gemma looks about ready to smack them all about the head. 

Harry huffs. “It’s a very regal name, Gem. I thought it suited him.” Then, “What’s the deal anyway? I mean, he’s pretty and all, but﹘”

“The _deal_ , Harry, is that they’re the rarest of all the dragon breeds! The Royal College hasn’t had a sighting of one in over a hundred years!” She stands up them, Louis trailing behind her, already smitten. “We were certain they’d all disappeared!”

Liam snorts. Both Gemma and Harry look over at him. “Just a bit funny that there’s all this noise over a dragon that would rather sleep than do most anything else.”

Harry can’t help but giggle. Even now, Zayn’s over the ruckus and has settled back to dozing across Liam’s feet. “S’true,” he tells Gemma. “He’s going to be awful boring to study, if that’s your intention. I imagine Liam’s probably got all you need to know in his notes.”

That makes her look sharply over at Liam. “Notes? You have notes?”

Under Gemma’s intense gaze, Liam becomes a bit flustered. “Um, notes. Yes? I have some?” Then, “Mostly just terrible sketches, to be honest. But, uh, things they like or don’t as well? Sometimes we, Harry and I﹘” he waves a hand like Gemma’s not going to know her own brother and Harry has to stifle a laugh. “We go out to the forest﹘”

“Like dates,” Gemma interjects, nodding wisely. Harry’s laugh turns to a strangled cough and Liam’s eyes go wide, his cheeks turning red again. 

He obviously decides to just ignore the interruption, stumbling onwards with, “And it’s, um, interesting to see how they react to being out of doors. Also with each other, it’s a bit different then too.”

“So they spend most of their time inside then?”

The look on Gemma’s face is keen and she’s stepping around the table before Liam can nod. She points at something, asking a question that Harry’s not paying any attention to because Liam’s face has lit up. He flips a few pages over to show some particular thing to Gemma, and Harry’s caught up in the way his mouth moves, the obvious excitement in his face as he talks. Gemma hunches over, face intent, then drags another chair close to sit in. 

“Think they’re gonna be at that for a while.” Nick’s voice holds amusement and Harry turns his head to frown. He’d almost forgotten Nick was there, the other man unusually quiet. Patting the chair next to him, he tells Harry, “Should sit down.”

Harry does, reaching out to scratch under Niall’s chin when the gold lifts his head, trilling a greeting. He can’t help but glance back over toward the table. Liam and Gemma are talking in earnest now. 

“﹘even Niall won’t touch those anymore. Had a bit of a go at his intestines﹘

Harry wrinkles his nose, slumping back into his chair. Nick looks fairly disgusted at whatever Liam’s going on about as well. 

“Scholars,” he huffs, and turns his attention towards Harry again. “Are you going to have any of them raspberry tarts at the shop tomorrow?”

 

Harry’s long since lost track of the hour by the time he’s able to shuffle Nick and Gemma back on their way to town. He’d had to wake Nick, head leant back and snuffling quietly. Niall had whined quietly once Nick was stood, and Harry almost felt bad, as Nick looked a bit pathetic at the parting as well. 

It’s kind of funny, he thinks now, that they were ever really worried about Nick. 

He shuts the door and turns to find Liam standing a few feet away, watching him. Harry hums a curious noise and Liam jerks, as if startled out of his own thoughts. 

“Your sister seems to think we’ll be okay,” Liam blurts out, adding hastily, “with the dragons. Zayn’s a rather large deal apparently.”

“She _is_ pretty smart,” Harry says. “Sorry for the, um, earlier. What she said and all.” Liam tilts his head, frowning, and Harry has to elaborate. “Calling you, ah, mine? And the date bit.” 

He wants to smack himself for even bringing it up. 

“Oh. Oh yes, that.” Liam’s tone is almost absent, like he’s thinking again and Harry finds himself curious as to what’s going through Liam’s head right then. His stomach drops when Liam says, rather abruptly, “I should get going too,” and makes his way toward the door. 

Opening his mouth to protest, Harry’s cut off before he even starts when Liam stops, his hand on the door handle. 

“The thing is, Harry,” he says, still with his back to Harry. “The thing is, I don’t want you to apologize for that.” 

He turns then, slumping back against the door. He’s not looking at Harry though, too busy chewing on his bottom lip as he stares at the floor. 

“Okay,” Harry replies, then, “Wait, what?”

“The thing is,” Liam repeats again, finally glancing up. He’s got a determined look in his eye, one that Harry’s seen so many times over the last year. This is the first time it’s been directed straight at Harry however, and he can feel his heartbeat start to race. He stands there, unable to look away as Liam continues.

“Do you know you hum when you bake? Or that your curls kind of remind me of a halo when you’re waking up? Do you know that your spine has the tiniest curve in it?” Liam nods, almost to himself. “I noticed this summer, in the garden.”

He stands up then, shoulders going back as he goes on. “Also, I’m fairly certain that you think you’re smaller than you are because every time I wake up in the middle of the night, you’ve got your face in my neck. I always get hot because you run so warm, you know? But I don’t ever want to move because I like it. I like that you move into me when you’re not aware of it. That you want to be near me.”

Liam falters a bit then, pressing his lips together and glancing down at his feet. The sound of his pulse is so loud in Harry’s ears that he’s certain he’s misheard when Liam says, voice quiet but very firm, “I’ll take it, you know, even if it’s just in your sleep because I kind of love it, to be honest.” 

He looks up, straight at Harry. 

“I kind of love _you_.” 

Liam’s eyes go wide, like he’s just realized what he’s said. He doesn’t move though, watches and waits for Harry to respond. Harry’s too stunned to speak and the silence stretches out long enough that Liam begins to look unsure, shifting from one foot to the other.

And then Louis yawns, a high-pitched sound that ends in a ragged yalp, overly loud and obnoxious in the silence. Harry can feel the corner of his mouth twitching as he tries not to laugh. It doesn’t last long though, when a wide smile spreads across Liam’s face. 

Harry’s laughing as he takes the two steps that close the distance between him and Liam. Laughing when he says, “I can’t believe you beat me to it, you wretch.” 

Liam lights up at that, smile going wide enough that the skin crinkles at the corners of his eyes in that way that Harry’s so very fond of. He tugs Harry in, hands on his elbows, until they’re pressed together from head to toe.

“I’ve been pining,” Harry grumbles, wrapping his arms around Liam’s shoulders and pressing his face into his neck. “ _Pining_ , I tell you.” 

“No more of that then,” Liam says, then he kisses Harry. 

Mere seconds in, and Harry’s certain he never wants to anything else ever again, other than kissing Liam. There’s a hand, splayed warm and low on his back, and fingers sliding across the back of his neck. A gentle tug as Liam curls his fingers into the hair there, as well as a quick nip at his bottom lip, and that’s it. Harry’s not moving, ever. 

Liam pulls back after a few minutes and Harry protests, pressing another kiss to his mouth. It makes Liam laugh and Harry sighs. It’s right about then he becomes aware of the weight pressing down on his foot.

“Louis’ sitting on our feet, isn’t he?” Harry mutters. Liam nods, grinning. His mouth is red and slick and Harry’s kissing him again. He can feel Liam’s smile against his mouth. It’s _amazing_.

Across the room, there’s the sound of a bowl being pushed along the floor. Harry sighs again. 

“Seems Niall’s hungry,” Liam tells him. He scratches his nails against Harry’s scalp and Harry’s knees go a little weak. 

Harry thumps his head down on Liam’s shoulder, then pulls it back up to say, “We could ignore them?” 

Liam looks like he’s considering it ﹘ well, he’s staring at Harry’s mouth which is just as good ﹘ when there’s the sound of one of Niall’s little flash flames and Liam’s eyes go a little wide. 

“Tell me there’s nothing on fire,” Harry pleads. 

“There’s nothing on fire,” Liam tells him dutifully. Then ruins it by adding, “However, we might need to have your boots cleaned again.”

Groaning, Harry says, “Why do I keep them around?”

“Because you love them.” 

“I do,” Harry nods. “I love you, too. Hadn’t quite said that yet.”

Liam blushes, a pleased smile spreading across his face. Harry can’t help but kiss him again. 

This time Louis sprawls obnoxiously across their feet. 

Liam breaks the kiss, laughing again. “I might have to build you another room.” 

Harry’s not really paying attention, doing his best to ignore Louis and Niall, who sounds like he’s moved on to picking up and dropping his food dish. 

“Why?” he finally says, stealing another kiss. 

“It’s going to be incredibly awkward with three dragons watching.” 

“Watching what?” Harry asks, distracted. Liam’s mouth is the most lovely shade of pink from Harry’s teeth.

Then, “Oh. _OH_.”


	2. EPILOGUE (of sorts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _On the Nature of Domestication: A Tale of Three Dragons and Two Gentleman_  
>  by Liam Payne - Former Member, Dragonslayer Guild of England  
>  Forward by Gemma Styles - Draconologist, Signet Order of England

 

Excerpt:

_I found that Louis was often the most stubborn of the three, more than happy to ignore you if it’s not something he liked or wanted to do. His need for attention at times was frustrating, his impatience rather legendary._

_However, I have never seen any animal, man included, that was ever so protective of those he loved and considered his family. There was an occasion, close to the finish of this book, in which he and Niall returned from a trip into the forest behind Harry’s home. Louis was bleeding from a long gash to his side, deep enough to have both of us worried. Niall was of course, overwrought ﹘ his adoration of Louis is well documented throughout this text ﹘ chattering away with increasingly panicked tones._

_Later on I was describing the wound to Paddy and he stated he’d seen one like it before, made from the tusk of a wild boar. Just think, men stay as far from wild boar as possible and here was Louis, taking one on without any precautions! I may not have been there to see it, but I knew he’d done it to protect Niall._

_(Don’t tell Harry, but Louis is secretly my favorite.)_


	3. Miscellaneous Fic Notes

Because I absolutely fell in love with this universe, I just wanted to share the inspirations for the colors of Louis, Niall, and Zayn. I remember when I first started writing this, I lost _hours_ looking for the right colors, lol. Anyway, thought you might like to have an idea of what I pictured in my head as I wrote them.

Louis  


Niall  


Zayn  


**Author's Note:**

> Rough sketches by thestoryischanging for the dragons and their pendant designs:
> 
> [ ](http://thestoryischanging.tumblr.com) [ ](http://thestoryischanging.tumblr.com) [](http://thestoryischanging.tumblr.com)


End file.
